Just Rose
by Piggwidgeon
Summary: Rose goes through a lot of stuff during her life at Hogwarts: blowing up toilets, first boyfriends, and -- of course -- finding out who her biological parents are. And through it all, she's just Rose. Rose/oc
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Potter Property and that's the end of the matter. Hope you enjoy.

AN: I'll update as frequently as I can. I think I'm going to shoot for a tuesday/thursday upload, but dont hold me to it. Im not sure how long its going to take me for getting this story out there. its kind of long. thanks. enjoy. review, if you want. =D

JUST ROSE

Rose slumped forward against the kitchen table, half asleep, staring at the coffee pot making gurgling noises. Slowly, drip by drip, she watched the blessed liquid accumulate in the carafe. Hugo stumbled through the hallway and slumped down in the chair next to her, his eyes half closed.

"Coffee?" Hugo muttered.

"None yet," Rose answered, her voice hoarse.

Hugo groaned and let his head fall onto the table.

"Hey you two," their dad said, coming into the kitchen with a spring in his step.

Rose glared at him; how dare he be chipper when the coffee isn't even done yet? Blasphemous!

"You know, sometimes I wonder about you two. It's almost eight and you're still half asleep," their dad muttered, flipping open _The Prophet_.

"Grrmmmm," their mum said, shuffling down the hallway. She took her seat across from Rose, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn.

"G'mrnnng," Hugo groaned, not looking up.

Rose blinked. The coffee pot gurgled particularly loud, heralding the end of the process. She perked up. Coffee? Hugo followed suit, sitting up straight. Rose quickly stood up and ran around the table, pushing Hugo off. Hugo followed after her, the two of them jostling each other for the first cup.

"Get off, Hugo!" Rose said, kicking him.

"I don't think so."

"I was the one that put the coffee on. I get the first cup."

"No."

"You're being unreasonable."

"All I want is a cup of coffee! Why won't you let me have coffee?"

"Hugo!" their dad barked. "Let your sister have the first cup."

Hugo groaned and pulled away from the fight. Rose grabbed her red cup and filled it with coffee, milk, and sugar.

"I still can't believe you ruin it like that," Hugo spat.

"I'm not ruining it," Rose insisted. "I'm enhancing the flavor."

"When you dnwithat go'etrest," her mum muttered, fighting against sleep.

"Actually…'Mione, you might want to go get dressed now," their dad said, his hand on his wife's arm. "We're supposed to be there in an hour."

Their mum put her head on the table and groaned. Rose grinned and drained her cup. Their mum had spent all last night working on legislation, claiming to be close to passing it. They had fallen asleep to the sound of their mum grumbling about house elves. Rose slipped down the hallway to her room and stared at her clothes. She slipped into her cannons sweatshirt and jeans and pulled back her honey hair-- her uniform -- and prepared for another day messing around with Fred and James.

3

Rose laid down on the floor in the sitting room of the Burrow. She could hear Lou, Roxy, and Luce arguing about dresses again. Sometimes, she felt bad for Lou. The things Luce and Roxy made him do…it was only fair, though; he was the youngest Weasley. Teddy thumped down the stairs and slumped into a chair.

"Hey, Ted," Rose said.

"Rose," he replied with a slight nod.

"How are you?"

"Sore," he muttered. "Last session was difficult."

"Are you off for awhile?"

"I have Christmas off, and then I'm back."

"Sounds like fun."

"Teddy?" Vicky asked, standing in the doorway, a worried look on her face.

"Mmmm?" he said, glancing over at her.

"Can I talk to you…in private?"

"Why?"

"Just…come on. I don't want to do it here."

Groaning, Teddy lifted himself from the chair and followed Vicky up the stairs. Rose rolled her eyes; even after almost three months of being separated, they insisted on having secretive meetings together. Whores.

"Where's Ted?" James asked, laying down next to Rose.

"Getting it on with Vick," Rose answered tartly.

James hit her hard in the ribs like he usually did when she took a jab at Ted.

"That's not funny," he said sharply.

"You and I both know they can't keep their hands to themselves."

Another sore rib.

"Stop beating your cousin," Uncle Harry said, sitting down on the couch.

"What're Vicky and Ted talking about?" James asked, turning towards his father.

"I think Vick should tell you that," Uncle Harry said.

Fred collapsed on the other side of Rose.

"I'm hungry," Fred muttered.

"Good on you," James said.

"I'm bored," Fred muttered.

Rose could feel both of them grin and turn their gazes on her.

"No!" she said suddenly, realization seizing her. She scrambled to her feet and backed away from her cousins. "Don't you dare!"

"Oh, I don't know. What do you think, James?" Fred said, slowly advancing on her.

"I think we do."

Both of them lunged for her at the same time. She couldn't get away. Adeptly, as they have done since they were six, they pinned her to the ground and tickled her relentlessly. Rose squirmed, laughing hysterically, trying futilely to push them off. When they were younger, it was easier to come out victorious, when she was about the same size as them. But since becoming beaters for the Gryffindor team, they had quickly outgrown her. She flailed and hit James in the jaw.

"Fred, this is mine now," James said, rubbing his face.

"Ok," Fred said, backing off.

"Jim! No!" Rose shouted, trying to get away from him.

Jim pinned her to the ground and pulled her arm in a painful position. She struggled against him, barely managing to escape his hold. Rose tried to return the gesture, but Jim was too stout.

"Bloody hell, James!" Rose said. "Get off!"

"You shouldn't have hit me!" They struggled for a few minutes, each one trying to cause pain to the other.

"It was an accident! Ow! Fricken hell, James!"

"What?" James leaned back on his heels, a puzzled look on his face.

Rose scrambled to her feet and sat on the couch. She rubbed her chest, feeling a bruise form. She hated it when that happened.

"Watch where you put your elbows next time," Rose snapped angrily.

"Whatever, Rose," he said, plopping down next to her, brushing his longish hair out of his eyes.

"Dinner!" Aunt Ginny called.

Rose watched as Fred, James, Hugo, Al, and Dom all scrambled to get the seats by the meat. Shaking her head, Rose followed, always amazed by their perpetual hunger. She supposed that's what you get for a group of teenaged boys.

3

Rose's sweater was always too big. It had been for the past few years. Her grandmum kept overestimating her size. She wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. Regardless, she took off her Cannons sweatshirt -- the same one she'd had since before Hogwarts -- and slipped on the Weasley sweater, swallowing her in yarn.

"Rose, you look hilarious," Fred muttered, slipping on his own sweatshirt -- black with a yellow 'F' on the chest.

"Rosie," her dad said, holding up a light blue sweater. "I think you got mine."

"Oh," she said, quickly slipping out of the maroon monster. That would explain quite a bit. She put on the blue one. It actually fit right.

"Take that off," her dad said quickly, pointing his finger at his daughter. "Take that off right now!"

"Ron!" his mum laughed, grabbing her husband and pulling him onto the couch.

"It's too tight. Take it off, Rose."

"It's not too tight, Ron," Uncle Harry said.

"No, it is." Her dad's face was bright red, his eyes narrowed. "Take it off."

"Don't listen to him," her mum said, patting her dad's arm.

"No! Take it off!"

"Ron, stop it. You're being unreasonable," Aunt Ginny said, throwing a ball of wrapping paper at him.

"I'm not being unreasonable. First this, and then boys are going to be groping her!"

"Ronald!"

"Put on your Cannons sweatshirt!"

"Your dad is angry because you're starting to look like Vick," Louis said absently, shoving a piece of fudge in his mouth. Dom hit him, sending the youngest Weasly sputtering into his hand.

Rose just stared at him, the comment not sitting quite right. Particularly because it was from Lou, who was currently wearing a purple skirt over his jeans. Tentatively, she pulled the sweater off and slipped back into her worn Cannon's sweatshirt.

"Put it back on," her mum said quickly.

"No," her dad said.

"Ronald, stop it. That sweater looks really good on her."

"It's too revealing."

"It's _not_ too revealing!"

"It's too tight."

"Anything is going to look too tight for you, if that's your definition of too tight!"

Both of them stood up, their faces red as they went at it. Rose knew her face matched her parents, for all the embarrassment they were giving her.

"Alright," Aunt Ginny said quickly, distracting everyone from the problem at hand. "How about some hot chocolate?"

3

"Here, don't let your dad know I gave this back to you," Rose's mum said, handing over the blue Weasley sweater.

"But it makes me look like a hussy," Rose refused.

"Your father has a stick up his bum," her mum said, stuffing the sweater in the trunk. "Wear it to Hogsmeade or something. It really is a decent sweater."

"I know."

"Keep your head down, don't get in trouble, and study hard," her mum said as always, closing the trunk with finality. "You only have a few months left before summer break. Don't slack off now."

"I know, mum."

"They're waiting for you at the Burrow; you should floo there now."

"Good bye."

"I love you, Rosie."

"Yeah. I love you, too."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: don't own potter property.

3

"Ok…so what're we going to do?" Fred asked, putting a locking charm on the compartment door.

"Dungbomb Slytherins?" James asked.

"No," Rose said, furrowing her brows. "There's got to be something better."

"Like what?" Fred asked. "There's nothing better than watching Slytherins running down the hallway like little girls."

"You have the cloak, Jim?"

"Yeah…"

"And the color pellets?"

"No!" Fred said suddenly. "No. We are not doing that."

"What? Are you afraid?"

"Yes!"

"You made them so we could throw them at Slytherins!" Rose said loudly, crossing her arms in mock anger.

"Yeah, but…" Fred said.

"She's right, Freddie," Jim said, folding his arms. "And we'd better do it now, before term starts up again."

"They're going to be pissed," Fred said, crossing his arms.

"Yeah?" Rose pressed.

"I don't want to be on the receiving end of that anger," he continued.

"That's why we use the cloak, genius," Rose said, flicking him between the eyes.

"Alright, give me the pellets," James said, holding out his hand.

"What color?"

"Blue," Rose said. "Make 'em all look like Ravenclaws."

Fred sorted through the items in his knapsack and pulled out a bag of colored pellets. He pulled out for blue ones and gave them to Jim.

"Just don't get caught," Fred said.

"I'll be back in a minute," Jim said, disappearing under the invisibility cloak.

3

Rose entered the Great Hall and slipped into her seat for the first meal back at Hogwarts since the break. There was just something about the Gryffindor table that always made a good-hearted Gryffindor feel good. However, you did run into a bit of problems when Gryffindor despised you. Rose had only seen that once in her almost three years at Hogwarts -- when Gryffindor lost the quidditch cup because the keeper let in a single goal. They lost one fifty to one sixty. It was not a pretty day. But usually, it was one big family.

"What happened to those Slytherins?"

The question echoed up and down the table, the Gryffindors finding intense pleasure in the general discomfort of the Slytherins. If she was going to be brutally honest, Rose would have turned to Fred and talk about how the color was already fading. However, she quickly realized that it was better that way; less of a reason for Wolfe to track them down and punish them like his house elves, which they all knew was going to happen anyway.

"Can I have your attention, please?" Headmistress McGonagall shouted, standing up. "It seems there was a conflict on the train involving…well…Slytherins, can you please stand up?"

The four Slytherins, extraordinarily smurf-like in appearance, stood up, their hands lodged in their pockets. The entire Great Hall -- from the Hufflepuffs all the way to various Slytherin -- stifled their giggles. Rose knew that's not how they looked when the pellet gas hit them; they would have looked like blueberries. The smurf-effect was a fading of the original color. She was surprised, however, to see how their hair had reacted to the color. Aeolus Malfoy's hair -- originally black -- turned a sickly shade of pink. Ophelia Zabini's hair -- usually rather dark -- was a bright purple. Rabanastre Saraiah -- his own hair rather light -- turned bright green. And then there was Adrian Fletcher, his hair normally light brown, had taken on a violet hue. That, more than their bluish skin, was cause for hilarity. Unlike the skin tone, the hair color hadn't faded; Rose had an irking feeling that it wouldn't, at least not for awhile.

"Do you think M knows?" Fred whispered, paranoid like always.

"Doubt it," James replied.

"What about W?"

"W doesn't know."

"Do you think he'll find out?"

"If you keep talking about it," Rose butted in, trying to get him to stop. If no one stopped Fred, he wouldn't stop trying to figure out if one of the professors knew what had gone down. It was undoubtedly his biggest fault when it came to pranking.

"Well if James hadn't…"

James nudged him sharply in the ribs.

"As you can see," the headmistresses said, "someone has…pranked…a compartment of Slytherins on the train. You can be seated, now. We have reason to believe that Gryffindors were involved in this. I am asking whoever did this to come forward. Thank you."

"They can't punish us," Rose whispered.

"Before second term starts?" Fred asked.

"Yep," Rose confirmed, grabbing another piece of chicken. "It's out of their hands. It would have been the prefects' job. But they failed. We win."

"We should lay low for awhile," Fred whispered.

"We should pellet one of our own," James corrected.

Both of them turned and looked at Rose.

"I'm not doing it," she said quickly.

"Oh yes you are. You're letting one off in the girl's bathroom tomorrow at peak shower time," Fred said, a grin on his face.

"What's a better way to diffuse suspicion?" Jim asked.

"I'm not doing it," Rose said adamantly, cutting into her chicken.

"Then I'll put on the cloak," James said.

"No!" Rose said. "You are not going into the girl's bathroom!"

"We'll see about that."

The two boys, both grinning devilishly, stood up and made their way up to the common room. Rose shook her head, stealing herself against the idea of having blue skin.

3

"Orange? Orange? Orange!" Rose yelled, chasing Fred up the stairs of the empty common room to the boys' dormitory. "ORANGE?"

"What do you want me to say, Rosie?" Fred said.

"Don't try to calm me down by using my nickname! And my hair is bright orange!"

"Well…at least you look like a Weasley."

Fred wisely ducked into the dormitory, missing Rose's fist. Rose burst through the door unceremoniously, ignoring some of the Gryffindor fourth-years sitting on their beds in their boxers. She headed straight towards Fred, still trying to get away from his cousin.

"What's she doing in here?" Frank said, quickly throwing a magazine under his bed.

"I _am_ a Weasley, Fred," Rose said viciously, pulling out her wand and backing Fred into a corner.

"I…"

"No, shove it. You said you were going with blue. Blue! Not orange. Now I have to deal with this sickening yellow-orange shade until my hair grows out!"

"I-it'll fade!" Fred said, trying to get his cousin to back off.

"But until it does? What am I supposed to do?"

She jabbed him in the chest with her wand, a stiff yet flexible eight and three quarter inch ash wand with a unicorn hair core. Nearly everyone in her family knew that her ash and unicorn hair combination was extraordinarily potent; you did everything in your power to not be on the receiving end of Rose's wand. And if you were, your wand had better be close by and you'd better have a shield charm ready.

"What am I supposed to do?" she repeated, magic sparking through her wand. Fred flinched at the sharp pain shocking his chest.

"Calm down," Fred said, putting his hand on Rose's orange one.

"No! I will not calm down!"

"Can someone please get her out of here?" Frank said, his voice shaking. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Just ignore her, Frank," James said casually, flipping through a quidditch magazine. "She does this every now and then. Usually a good duel gets it out of her."

"This isn't the same thing, James!" Rose shouted, flicking her wand adeptly in her cousin's direction. His magazine caught on fire.

"Merlin, Rose! When did you start working on non-verbal spells?" James shouted, fumbling around trying to find his wand to put out the fire. Frank jumped up from the bed and patted out the flame with a wool blanket, ending the scare. Or, at least that scare. Fred's life was still on the line.

"Look, Rosie," Fred said, again trying to placate the angry beast. "You agreed."

"I did _not_," she hissed. "I said I'd turn _blue_. Blue, Fred! Not this bloody orange color!"

"Well...at least now you match the cannons," James quipped.

Again, Rose pointed her wand at him, muttering a perpetual tickling curse, and watched as James wriggled around on his bed, ending in him falling off with a loud thump. He continued to squirm on the floor, howling in laughter.

"Don't kill me," Fred pleaded. "It was James's idea. He grabbed the orange pellets. He's the one that tossed them. I had nothing to do with it."

"It's your bloody invention!"

"I.."

"Whatever," Rose snapped. "Good luck finding the counter for this."

Fred fell to the ground, laughing hysterically, both him and James doomed to a night of peeing their pants.


	3. Chapter 3

Dislcaimer: Ain't own no potter properties. Just make due with the sandscastles.

3

Rose opened her eyes. February twentieth. She couldn't help but grin. Fourteen. She was getting old. She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. It was Saturday. And her birthday. She deserved to sleep.

A body collided with hers.

"Wake up!" Molly shouted loudly. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

"Is she up?" a voice Rose didn't recognize say.

"Who is that?" Rose muttered, daring to open her eyes. The Scamander twins flanked her bed, the two of them wearing party hats and had noise makers hanging out of their mouths.

"Happy birthday!" they shouted.

"How did you get them in here?" Rose muttered, hitting Molly -- laying on top of her -- with her pillow.

"I have my ways," Molly replied.

"We used rope," one of them said.

"And sheets," the other said.

"And a few charms," Molly added.

"Dear Lorcan, did we use charms?"

"No, my Lysander, I don't believe we did."

"Well, the lady says we have."

"The lady is mistaken."

"Shove it you two."

"As the lady wishes," they said in unison with over dramatized bows.

"Why are you here?" Rose muttered, stifling a yawn. It was still early; not yet seven. She wanted to go back to sleep.

"We're sneaking you out," Molly said simply.

"What?"

"Well...not exactly," Lorcan, the more pragmatic of the two twins, corrected.

"Fine, not _exactly_," Molly said sharply. "We're bringing you to breakfast. Get dressed."

"What? No. I'm perfectly fine here. Sleeping."

Molly snatched her blankets away.

"Give them back!" Rose snapped, sitting up.

"Lorcan!" Molly yelled, passing a wad of blankets to the blond. Grinning mischievously, Lorcan dashed from the common room, Lysander at his heels.

"I'm going to kill you, Molly."

"Just come with us. Please?" Molly grinned that grin that no Weasley could refuse; not even Lou could deny her request with that grin. James and Lily were the only two people Rose knew who were immune to the Molly-grin.

"Fine," she grumbled, sliding out of her bed.

3

"Where have you been?" James asked, watching Rose sit down at the Gryffindor table.

"Uh…Molly abducted me this morning," Rose said, shaking her head. "She dragged me to the kitchens where she, the Scamander twins, and Cory did…something. I don't even know what it was. I think it was supposed to be some kind of a skit."

"Cory? He's the first year, right?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know why he hangs out with second years," Fred said. "You'd think he could find better entertainment with kids his own age. I mean, really, the Scamanders and Molly? The three of them are even more rambunctious than us sometimes."

"Not quite," James said. "Oh, and here's your present."

James tossed a brown paper wrapped package to Rose.

"You know, they really are," Fred said. "Did you know that last week, they put Cory in a raccoon costume, the Scamanders in beagle costumes, and Molly dressed up like a hunter? They went on a hunt, evidently, chasing Cory through the whole school."

Shaking her head, Rose removed the packaging. She wasn't disappointed.

"Socks!" she said, holding up the mismatched pair -- one grey, one blue.

"Of course," Fred said. "They match the ones we gave you last year."

"Thanks, guys," Rose said, biting back laughter.

"So did you get anything else?" Fred asked, sniffing his pumpkin juice.

"Dad sent me a blue sweater three sizes too big, mum sent me a book on non-verbal spells and a note to ignore my father, Uncle George and Aunt Angie sent me a box of skiving snackboxes, Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry and grandmum sent me the usual package of food, Uncle Charlie sent me…a dragontooth, Uncle Perce and Aunt Audrey sent me quills, and Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur sent me some make-up and stuff like that."

"Which you'll never use," James said with a bit more force than Rose liked.

"How do you know I'll never use it?" Rose demanded, crossing her arms.

"Because you're Rose," Fred said. "You wouldn't dream of wearing make-up. You probably don't even know how to put it on."

"I resent that," Rose said.

"Really? So you know how to put on make-up?" James teased, leaning against the Gryffindor table.

"…I can find out easy enough."

"Who you going to ask? The Scamanders?" Fred said.

"No."

"Well, you might do well to. They're more girlie than you'll ever be," James muttered.

"Yeah, and if they're more of a girl than me, then I'm more of a man than you," Rose snapped back, her cheeks beginning to burn.

"Well, that explains that hair on your lip," James said quickly.

"And the lack of hair on yours."

"Hey," James said, holding up his hand. "At least I know how to put on lipstick."

"I'm not sure you should be bragging about that," Fred muttered, glancing around at the group of fifth-years staring at the two fourth-years and the third-year.

"You two are impossible," Rose said, grabbing her goblet.

"Doesn't make you any more of a girl," James sighed.

"Shove it," Rose demanded harshly, beginning to get annoyed with him. She was not in the mood for this banter today.

"That's just because you know I'm right."

"James," Fred said, his wide eyes transferring his convictions that today was not a good day to push Rose. He was right, of course, but James rarely listened to Fred when he was correct.

"Oh, come on, Fred," James continued, ignoring both of them. "Who looks better in a dress, really? We both know it's me. Rose hasn't got anything to pull it off with."

"James," Fred said again, his voice shaking. "Stop it."

"It's not my fault I own more girly outfits than she does," James said, stifling his chuckles.

"I'm going to the library," Rose said stiffly, standing up. There was only so much jabbing she could take from James when she wasn't in the mood. A few days ago, she was in fighting form. But not today.

"Why are you going to the library?" Fred asked.

"I need to finish an essay for Wolfe," she replied, shouldering her bag and heading towards her destination.

Sometimes, they just got on her nerves. They knew they did, too. Groaning, she sunk into one of the chairs in the corner. Whatever happened to the pact they had about not teasing each other on their birthdays? Evidently out the window. They never did play by their own rules. Annoying boys. Nothing you could do with them without frustration. Absolutely ridiculous. They needed to learn some manners.


	4. Chapter 4

Dislcaimer: Ain't own no potter properties. Just make due with the sandscastles.

3

Fred and James bit their lip and stood over Rose as she put the finishing touches on the exploding box they were still incapable of perfecting. For the past three years, they tried to make the final prank of the year an exploding toilet. For the past three years, James and Fred were determined to do it on their own, without help from their rather brilliant younger cousin. For the past three years, they were idiots. This year, they finally realized their folly and drafted Rose to be the primary consultant for this project. This year, they all knew they would succeed.

"Done," Rose said, pulling away.

"Are you sure?" Fred asked, staring at the explosive no larger than a matchbox.

"Would I lie to you?" she said. "I know what happens when I lie to you two. And it's never pretty."

"I think we've trained her well, Fred," James said, holding one of the sensors attached by a long wire to the box. "So we attach these four things to the bottom of the toilet seat?"

"And when pressure is applied, it explodes, dying the poor bloke's bottom bright purple," Rose said, crossing her arms satisfactorily.

"Let's go, James," Fred said, tucking the little device in his pocket. "We've got a bathroom to vandalize."

Rose shook her head as the pair of them left the common room, giggling like first years. She went up to her dormitory, packing up her trunk for the summer. Surprisingly, she hadn't accumulated all that much. As usual, she burned all her tests and examinations, destroying evidence of her scholarly success. The last thing she wanted was for her cousins to find out how capable she really was, then she would serve as the in-house tutor. That was not fun. It was far better to let them think you were mediocre and do what you wanted rather than what the family wanted. Even her dad thought the only reason she excelled so much was because Al hovered over her shoulder, telling her what she was doing right or wrong. Her mum knew, though she disapproved of the girl's decision to keep her intelligence as much in the closet as possible. It would get so complicated if she was the go-to gal. No, she much preferred being free, unrestrained by expectations and demands.

Unless James and Fred asked nicely, of course. Causing havoc, she didn't mind. Repeating five times the premise of the goblin rebellion, that was another story. She'd let Al and Hugo take care of that. They were Ravenclaws, after all.

3

Slytherin won the house cup. It was not a good day for Gryffindor. It was not a good train ride with Fred and James. In fact, it wasn't terribly good to be Fred and James at this point. The answer for this, of course, was extremely simple; they had been caught. They had been caught installing the explosives underneath the seat of a toilet by a Slytherin prefect. They had been caught doing something taboo, hours before the feast, with Gryffindor only beating Slytherin by twenty points. So what do you think happened? Why, they lost fifty points each, of course. And the Slytherin prefect wasted no time in alerting the school of the heinous acts of Potter and Weasley. And the school -- from Hufflepuff to Gryffindor -- wasted no time in throwing things at them. Not for the first time -- and certainly not the last -- Rose was pleased that she did not associate in the execution of their pranks. No, she was behind the scenes preparation, getting everything ready. She never got caught, never served detention, and never had points taken from the house because of her. However, she knew she'd never achieve prefect; the whole school knew of her position, even if they didn't have any proof. She even started using Fred's wand (unicorn hair core versus James's dragon heartstring) when doing work on objects so they couldn't try and trace the magic back to her. Different wand, different trace. She made sure she was covered.

"I can't believe you guys got caught," Frank muttered miserably, shaking his head like every other Gryffindor.

"How were we supposed to know a Slytherin prefect was going to walk through the door?" Fred muttered, anger on the tip of his tongue.

"You weren't supposed to do it in the first place," Frank continued. "I mean, you lost us the cup!"

"We know!" James said, his anger deeply seeded in his voice.

Rose grinned, biting back chuckles. To be honest, she didn't really care about the cup. The houses were just inconsequential divisions, created by the headmaster to help first years feel belonging. Not that she was happy Slytherin won. Nor would she have been indifferent if Gryffindor had come out on top.

"You couldn't have just waited until next year?" Frank demanded, his face red. "You just had to go and ruin everything!"

"Shove it, Longbottom," Fred said angrily, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"What? I don't get it! You guys haven't gotten a detention all year, and then all of a sudden you decide to go wayward. Why? It doesn't make sense!"

"They've tried to blow up a toilet every year since first year," Rose explained. "This year was the closest they got."

"Yeah!" Fred said quickly, turning on Rose. "It isn't _our_ fault Gryffindor lost! It's _yours_!"

"Hang on a second," Rose said, "that isn't true."

"You _are_ the one that made the explosive device," James said.

"You did what?" Frank demanded.

"Yeah!" Fred continued. "You're the one that figured it out! If you hadn't done it, then we wouldn't have gotten into trouble."

"Do_ not_ blame this on me!" Rose said loudly, pointing her finger at Fred and Jim, the two of them sitting across from her.

"You did _what_?" Frank shouted, jumping up from his seat.

"Sit down and be quiet," Rose snapped. "It was _not_ my fault, no matter what these two nitwits say."

"We didn't get in trouble the past three years!" James exclaimed. "This year was the first!"

"This year was the first you even tried to install it," Rose growled, folding her arms stubbornly.

"And this was the year we got caught! When we had _your_ help!" James shouted, losing it.

"So it's _my_ fault because _you_ got caught? I didn't get caught! It was you!" Rose said with an increasingly loud volume.

"If you hadn't been involved at all…" Fred put forth.

"Shove it! You _asked_ me! I didn't come to you with it already made! I spent a week -- a week! -- working on the device, and you thank me by accusing me of losing the house cup, when in reality _you_ were the ones who got caught and _you_ were the ones who lost _one hundred_ points! I had nothing to do with it!"

"If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have lost them!" James insisted.

"You guys are ridiculous!" Rose spat. "I do you a favor, and you turn around and eat me!"

"We aren't eating you, we're pointing out the facts," Fred said.

"Ohoho! The facts? You call this the facts? You call blaming me for your failures the facts? Why didn't you use the bloody cloak? Eh? Why didn't you use Teddy's map? You didn't_ have_ to get caught, you idiots."

Their faces paled and their jaws clenched.

"Shove it," James said, loathing dripping from his voice.

Rose rolled her eyes; did they really not think of using James's tools? They used them to sneak into the girls' bathrooms, but not to effectively pull off a prank? They really were idiots. Why did she even bother with them?

"So…whose fault is it?" Frank said cautiously, warily eying the three cousins.

"Shove it," the three said in unison.


	5. Chapter 5

Dislcaimer: Ain't own no potter properties. Just make due with the sandscastles.

3

Rose looked around the yard of the Burrow, feeling that something was off. Someone was missing. Fred and Jim were playing with Lou, trying to get him to eat a dungbomb. Luce and Roxy were giggling over Lou's attire -- a pink dress they undoubtedly forced him into. Hugo and Al were already fighting with Uncle Perce about one thing or another. Dom was talking with Uncle Charlie, most likely about dragons.

"Mum," she said, looking next to her. "Where's Vicky and Ted?"

Her mum looked down on her, a slightly surprised look on her face.

"Why aren't you playing with Jim and Fred?" she asked, avoiding the question in that annoying way she had; she always tried to change the subject whenever the Second War, her parents, or any other uncomfortable situation came up. It annoyed Rose to no end; all she wanted was a straight answer.

"They anger me," she replied frankly. "So where are they?"

"I'm not sure I'm the one that should be telling you, Rosie," her mum said gently. "Why don't you go shove a dungbomb down Lou's throat?"

"Because I don't want to be around Fred and Jim. They blamed me for losing the house cup, when in reality it was them. I want nothing to do with them. And why won't you tell me? You know I'm just going to find out anyway." Rose crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow at her mum.

"They're coming later," her mum said. "Hey, Ginny, convince Rose to go do something with someone." Her mum forced a grin.

"I don't _want _to do anything. I _want_ to know where Ted and Vick are!" Rose said.

"They're at an appointment. Teddy got Vick pregnant," Aunt Ginny said simply, "and Harry's making sure Teddy does his part. Well, as much as he can while still keeping up with his training. That boy really got himself in a jam." She shook her head and sighed.

Rose's mind churned. Vicky was pregnant? How could that happen? She would be…if they broke up at the end of October, assuming they did it to the last day…

"Six months?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"Seven," Aunt Ginny corrected.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

She clenched her teeth, angry and rather surprised; Vicky and Teddy never seemed to be the type to leave things to chance. Rather the opposite, in fact. Both of them carried around knapsack full of stuff they never use -- from a first aide kit to rain gear to muggle money to a flashlight; they covered every base. Her dad insisted it was because of Fred and Jim; from a young age, they would play pranks that never really went over terribly well. If you weren't prepared, you'd be paying for it for hours later. The obsession didn't rub off on Rose; she was on their side -- and it wasn't passed to the younger crew. Just Ted and Vick.

"To be honest," Aunt Ginny said. "We weren't sure you'd care."

"Why wouldn't I care?" Rose demanded.

"Dunno. Vicky told us over Christmas, and then you all went back to Hogwarts. We didn't really think it would matter," Aunt Ginny said, sitting down next to Rose's mum.

"How could she get pregnant?" Rose said, surprised at her own anger softly stirring within her.

"I think it was because they had sex," Aunt Ginny explained. Rose's mum shifted uncomfortably between them.

"I mean, it's so irresponsible! Weren't they both prefects?" Rose said.

"This thing happens when you don't pay attention," Aunt Ginny said, sighing.

"No," Rose's mum said. "It is irresponsible. Having sex before marriage is irresponsible."

"You're one to talk," Aunt Ginny murmured. "From what I heard..."

"Ginny!" Rose's mum yelled, her face red.

"Look, Rose, they made a mistake -- people tend to do that -- just try not to fall into the same hole, eh?"

"No, _don't_ fall into the same hole. I swear, Rose Lee, if you come home pregnant you're moving out," her mum said harshly.

"What is this about Rose being pregnant?" her dad said loudly. "If we find out you're sexualizing with some guy, you're moving out! You come home pregnant, and we _disown_ you."

"We won't disown you," her mum said quickly.

"No, we will. And we'll never look at you again!"

"Ronald! Stop it!"

"No! If she comes home pregnant, I never want to see her again."

"Thanks for the bode of confidence, Uncle Ron," Vicky said from the back door. Rose's dad's face turned bright red and he turned away from his visibly pregnant niece. Rose glanced at her briefly before turning to face the orchard again, her back to the house, a knot settling her stomach. She watched as the others from Hogwarts -- Hugo, Al, Molly, Fred, and James -- gaped at their cousin, openly shocked. Vicky and Teddy both shifted uncomfortably under the stares.

"So…I guess they didn't tell you," Teddy said, scratching the back of his head.

"I'm pregnant," Vicky said.

"With my kid," Ted said, quickly claiming responsibility.

"Wow," Fred murmured, rubbing his forearm. "I…I don't know what to say."

"Well…at least you know you're potent," James joked, nudging Teddy playfully. Teddy leveled him pretty quickly.

"This isn't something you joke about," Teddy spat, looking down on his surrogate brother. James pulled himself off the ground and rubbed the dirt off the seat of his pants, muttering apologies.

"Mmmm…I don't think this is a good idea," Molly said thoughtfully.

"It's not. Don't do it," Vicky quickly replied. "So…is there any food around?"

"Yep; we were just waiting for you," Uncle Bill said.

Everyone crowded around the tables set up for this occasion, each person ascending to their usual positions. Rose settled into her usual position next to Aunt Ginny, James at her other elbow, Vicky slowly lowered herself into the seat opposite the fourteen year old, and Rose felt anger flare within her.

Rose didn't know why she was angry. She didn't understand the complexity behind the simple emotion. She didn't fully realize the pedestal on which she had placed Vicky or how quickly the single act of removing the idealized older cousin from that pedestal had uprooted her reality. She didn't understand how much the small realization that Vicky wasn't infallible changed her understanding of the world. She couldn't conceptualize how it made her question the fallibility of everything else. Could her mum be imperfect? Her dad? Her uncles? Her aunts? Her grandmum? Her professors?

No. That wasn't right. Adults couldn't make mistakes. It was impossible. So they were perfect? Of course not, no one was perfect. They were just incapable of ruining their lives, right? They were incapable of making completely destructive decisions that completely derailed everything they were working for, weren't they?

She risked a glance up at Vicky, the older woman staring at Rose, her blue eyes wide and questioning. Rose bowed her head again, avoiding eye contact with Vicky. Victoire was smart. She was intelligent. She was the third smartest in her graduating class at Hogwarts. She was a prefect. She was head girl. She was on her way to a successful career with St. Mungo's, researching curses and hexes. She was brave, never backing down from a challenge. She was beautiful. She was everything Rose had ever thought to ever be. She had seemed perfect, unable to be altered. She seemed absolute, everything about her solid and determined. She seemed…

"So, Vicky, how did the appointment go?" Aunt Ginny asked, interrupting Rose's thoughts with a jolt.

"Fine," she replied simply, her voice sounding flat.

"Pass the potatoes?" Jim asked. Without looking up, Rose grabbed the potatoes and passed them down.

"So everything's good?" Aunt Ginny pressed.

"Everything's fine, Aunt Gin," Vicky said. "She's doing fine."

"I thought we weren't going to tell them," Teddy muttered.

"Oh!" Vicky looked up, suddenly extremely alert. "Sorry…I…I wasn't paying attention…"

"It's fine," Teddy said, sighing. "Don't tell anyone, Gin."

"Hehehe…yeah, sure Ted. Because you know I can keep everything from Harry. He's going to ask as soon as we get inside. You know you blew it."

"Aunt Ginny!" Vicky whined. "You can't do this to me! It was an honest mistake."

"What? Did she tell you if zhe baby was a girl or a boy?" Fleur asked, looking down the table.

"No, mama."

"Yes," Aunt Ginny said. "Girl."

"Ginny!" Teddy said, furious.

"Can't keep anything from Fleur. She's a quarter veela, you know," Aunt Ginny said.

"So have you thought up a name, yet?" Charlie asked, glancing at his niece next to him.

Teddy and Vicky gave conflicting answers.

"They already know it's a girl, we might as well give 'em the name too," Vicky muttered.

"You don't want to give them a surprise?"

"Well…I do…but Aunt Gin blew it…"

"Why don't we just keep the name quiet?"

"Because they're just going to be bothering us since you said no."

"I want to see the look on your mum's face."

Vicky's mouth twitched.

"Fine," she said. "We aren't telling you the name, sorry."

"Oh, come on!" Charlie said, teasingly nudging his niece.

"No," Teddy said, speaking on her behalf.

"You want to get physical with this?" Charlie demanded, crossing his arms. "I win you tell?"

"Absolutely not," Vicky said quickly. "Aunt Gin, what're your thoughts on the new line up for the Harpies?"

Rose clenched her fist under the table. Her heart pounded against her chest. It was painful, like she was dieing or something. This just wasn't right. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They were supposed to play quidditch, Vicky forcing Rose to play chaser. She was supposed to fall, all of them laughing at her. She was supposed to chase Vicky down, like always, and prove once again who was faster. That's not how it was going to go down. Damn it. There was no point to her being here.

"Mum?" Rose asked, glancing diagonally across the table.

"Yeah, Rose?"

"Can I go home? I'm not feeling too well."

"Err…yeah…use floo and don't worry about your trunk; we'll bring it later."

"Goodbye."


	6. Chapter 6

Dislcaimer: Ain't own potter properties kid. If I did, harry'd be dead and Luna would be with Neville. Eat that, griddles.

3

Rose stared at her ceiling at the slowly circulating stars her mum had charmed there. How could this happen? She rolled over and put her face on her cool pillow. Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth. This was so…wrong. Her hands clenched her blanket. She heard a pop in the kitchen. Bloody hell. Someone had come after her. It was so typical. She just hoped it wasn't…

"Rosie?"

Vicky.

"Rosie, are you ok?" Vicky stood in the door to Rose's room, the floor creaking under her feet.

"I'm fine," Rose said, not even looking at her.

"I know you aren't."

Vicky came into the room and sat down on her desk chair. Rose let go of the blanket and rolled onto her back, her eyes fixating on a star. She struggled with her anger, subduing it as best she could. She did not want to talk with Vicky. Vicky put her hand on Rose's arm, trying to coax her out of her shell. Rose pulled away from her.

"Rose…"

"It's nothing!"

"Both of us know it's not nothing!"

Rose tilted her head and gazed at her cousin -- her eyes narrowed and jaw set. Rose wasn't going to win. She never did. There was a certain stubbornness that she was lacking. Vicky's blue eyes slightly darkened; she was extraordinarily angry.

"Why did _you_ come?" Rose asked bitterly.

"You know someone was going to come after you; you're not sick. I figured you'd prefer to talk with me than our dad."

"Well, you're wrong." The words sounded foreign to both of them; since when did Rose want to bare her soul to her uptight, prude of a father? Their conversations always ended with him blushing furiously, muttering about where her mum was.

"Since when?" Vicky said.

"Since you decided to run of and become a bloody slag!" Rose shouted, sitting up on her bed. Immediately, she regretted her words. Vicky slumped back in the chair, her eyes returning to their usual blue, appearing surprised.

"So that's what it's about?" Vicky said, her voice catching in her throat.

"You didn't even tell me!"

"I…I thought your mum would have…"

"Well, she didn't, did she? And neither did you! How many letters did you send? How many times did I ask you if something was up? You never told me! And you can't do this. What are you thinking? Is that why you never showed up for the dinner May second? You didn't want to tell us? Damn it! You're barely twenty!"

"Rose…"

"Just…just stop, ok? It doesn't matter anymore."

"Rose, I'm sorry, alright? I honestly thought they told you. And you know my family went to France in May."

"Whatever."

"Rose! Come on, you can't be angry with me."

"Why can't I?

"It was a mistake, Rose. It's like me getting angry at you for spilling milk."

"Look…just forget it," Rose said, crossing her arms. "I don't want to talk about this."

"I don't want you to be mad at me for reasons beyond my control!"

"I don't really think it matters what you want."

"Rose!"

Rose rolled over and planted her face in her pillow. She did not want this conversation to progress. At all. She was a Weasley, raised in the culture of absolute stubbornness and arrogance. But so was Vicky. And, unlike Rose, she had the genes to back it up.

"What's your problem?" Vicky demanded.

"You didn't tell me," Rose mumbled, her voice muffled by her pillow. She wished she could sink into the bed, disappear, evade the conversation.

"I haven't told you things before."

"You promised me in second year we wouldn't keep anything from each other. What is this? You kept it from me. I…I can't…it wasn't supposed to work like this. You should have told me."

Vicky sighed, remembering it. Rose had been crushed when she completely realized Vicky wasn't going back to Hogwarts after she graduated. They had promised to write copiously -- the two oldest Weasley girls maintaining a tight correspondence. And they did. Vicky got a detailed account of Fred and James's antics, Rose's classes, and her slight arguments with other girls. Rose got Vicky's advice, tales of training with St. Mungo's, and even the progression of Vicky and Teddy's relationship until they mutually decided to split up -- about six months ago. They had no restrictions. It made Rose feel less alone; she was much more like Vicky than Molly, and she idolized her older cousin.

"What do you want me to say?" Vicky asked, her voice gentle.

"Nothing."

"Well, then," Vicky said, hauling herself off the chair, "if nothing I say is going to change your stubborn Weasley mind, I'm going back to the Burrow."

Rose didn't move, listening to her squeak down the hallway, pause for a moment in the kitchen, and disapparate with a crack.

3

Rose leaned against the counter of Uncle George's shop in Diagon Alley, idly flipping through a magazine. Fred and James were with Uncle Ron in Hogsmeade, setting up another joke shop. Lucky bastards. Did they have to wear the hideous neon outfits? Ludicrous and ugly? No. They got to wear muggle clothes. Why didn't she get to wear muggle clothes?

"Hello, Rose," Roxy, the ten-year old cousin, said, popping up at Rose's elbow.

"What do you want?" Rose asked, her voice strained.

"I don't know." Roxy sighed and climbed into the stool, resting her chin on the counter. "What do you want?"

"To do my job," Rose replied, flipping the page.

The bell over the door tinkled. Rose looked up. A kid, probably only fourteen or fifteen, came into the shop and walked up to the counter.

"Er…hey…I was told by Mr. Weasley he was looking for some help…"

"Right," Rose said, abandoning her magazine. "Roxy, go get your father."

Roxy groaned and slipped from the stool and ran up the stairs.

"So you think you have what it takes to work for Weasleys?" Rose asked, gazing at the boy. He was fairly tall, certainly not taller than her dad, but still a respectable height. He wore clothes like Dom -- relaxed but clean -- and had a Harpie's hat on. She shook her head and turned her attention back to her magazine.

"So…what're you reading?" he asked, leaning on the counter.

"_Quidditch Quarterly_," Rose answered drolly, turning the page.

"Ah, so you're a quidditch gal?" he said. "You're not on a team at Hogwarts, are you?"

"No."

"Who do you follow?"

"Cannons."

He snorted.

"They're in a rebuilding year," Rose said coldly. "Most of their players are rookies. Comparing to the _Harpies_, full of vets, they're doing quite well. The Harpies should get the cup this year, but they're not. They got knocked out by...oh, who was it again? Oh, yes, the Cannons."

She glanced up at him, wondering how he would respond to her challenge. He just grinned and shook his head.

"I play beater for Ravenclaw," he said.

"So you know Al, then?" Rose said.

"Who doesn't know Al Potter? Best seeker Ravenclaw has ever seen. And the way things are going, next year Hugo Weasley's going to be quite the keeper."

"Yeah…if you can get him to give up chaser aspirations."

"Oh, I know he will. He's a smart fellow."

It was Rose's turn to snort. Hugo may be book-smart, but he lacked a certain logic.

"Ah, Greg!" Uncle George said, coming quickly down the stairs, Roxy following close behind him. "I am truly glad you could make it. Met my niece, I see? She's Ron's daughter."

"Oh," Greg said, staring at Rose. "You don't look like a Weasley…"

Rose glared at him; she hated it when people commented on her not "looking like" a Weasley. What was that even supposed to mean? She was a Gryffindor, wasn't she? She had the name, didn't she? She had a bit of a temper usually, didn't she? She was a bloody Weasley, no matter what anyone said.

"Errr…yeah…Look, Greg, I'll have to fill you on some…protocol…but never suggest Rose isn't a Weasley. Fastest way to the end of her wand, and that's the last thing you want. Trust me. Come with me and we'll get you outfitted and show you where everything is."

The pair of them left the show floor, Roxy giggling as they watched them go.

"He's kind of cute," Roxy said, climbing back up on the stool.

"Whatever, Roxy," Rose said, getting back to her article on the Harpies.

"You don't think he is?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Why would I?"

"Because he's tall and…and…"

"Is that all you got, Roxy?"

"Hmmph," Roxy grunted angrily.

The young girl reached into a drawer and pulled out her magazine -- _Teen Witch_. Rose rolled her eyes at the picture of Andrea Swod, the new keeper for the Harpies. She was such a…an overrated hussy. She didn't even do her job well enough against the Cannons. The Cannons! Ludicrous. Not worth the time. Sometimes, Rose had difficulty believing Fred and Roxy were of the same spawn. Groaning, Rose started reading an article about the only person left in the magazine, the spawn of the devil, Andrea Swod.


	7. Chapter 7

Dislcaimer: Harry Potter characters and setting is not mine. I know, I know, it's a crime. The things I could do to Harry! Oh, well, I'll just have to find my own cast of characters someday…

3

Rose sat across from Hugo, silently staring at her younger brother. He was a rather awkward kid -- big hands, big feet, big ears, and a big sense of arrogance. Nothing could shake his pride. Rose honestly didn't know what he was doing in Ravenclaw. Really, he was much more of a Gryffindor.

"So," her dad said, lifting his cup of wine. "How was work today, Rose?"

"Fine," she replied, pushing her potatoes around.

"What do you think of Greg?"

"He has bad taste in quidditch. The Harpies don't know how to effectively use their players. I mean, there is no way Mikah can be on seeker, when she holds the second-best record for chasing. And there's no way Wiener should be on beater, when she's clearly a better keeper than that Swod they have."

"Swod isn't _bad_. She's just inexperienced," Hugo said, waving his fork at his sister.

"Oh, shove it you. You don't even know what you're talking about. You know next to nothing about quiddtich."

"Well, I certainly know more than you! At least I can fly."

"I have balancing issues," Rose said. "I can't even walk in a straight line."

"You know, I still think we should tell a healer about that," her mum said.

"I'm fine, mum," Rose said.

"She doesn't really need to use a broom," her dad said.

"But it'll affect her ability to aparate, won't it?"

"Look," her dad said. "If I can learn to apparate perfectly, I'm sure Rose can."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Hugo said, a huge grin on his face.

"Be quiet, Hugo!" Rose said.

"Both of you, calm down," their dad said. "And we have a few years before we have to worry about Rose splinching herself."

"And you learn in a controlled environment, so don't worry about it, Rose," her mum said. "Your father splinched himself more time than Harry, Ginny, and I combined."

"You did?" Hugo asked, a look of shock passing over his freckled face.

Their dad nodded sheepishly and their mum chuckled darkly.

"Weasley men don't have the most luck with apparating," their dad said. "I don't think the tw--George had any difficulty with it, and Perce definitely didn't, but I think all the rest of us had some…set backs."

Hugo started giggling.

"So," their dad said, changing the subject quickly. "I got us some tickets to the world cup this year. You two interested in going?"

"Yes!" the two Weasley kids shouted, jumping up from their seats.

"I hear its going to be the Irish versus the French!" Hugo shouted, punching the air excitedly. "We're going to _crush_ them! Dom's going to have to bow to our dominance!"

"Err…Hugo," Rose said. "First off, it isn't the Irish, they got knocked out two days ago by Brazil. And the French aren't even in the running this year. The way things are going now, it's going to be Australia against Brazil unless Bulgaria knocks the Aussies out. And that won't happen because Australia is on fire."

"Oh," Hugo said, sinking back into his seat.

"See? You barely know anything about quidditch."

3

Rose flipped through a copy of _Quidditch Weekly_ Uncle George had lying around. It was the new edition, completely devoted to the world cup. It toggled between articles of Australia, Bulgaria, Brazil, Ireland, and momentous recounts of past quidditch world cups -- including the one where the dark mark was put up in the sky and a bunch of death eaters got out of control. She knew her dad and mum -- along with other Weasleys and Uncle Harry -- all went to that cup, but no one would tell her a thing about it. She supposed they were trying to protect her, but she wasn't one to be protected.

The bell tinkled. Rose looked up. Greg entered the store, playing with the front of his neon blue robes. The color made her stomach churn. Why her dad thought neon colors looked good on people was behind her. She hadn't met one person -- other than Vick -- who could pull it off.

"Good morning," Greg dared to say.

Rose glanced up at him, cocked an eyebrow, and returned to the magazine, which gave her a detailed account of the first quidditch world cup. He was still wearing his Harpie's cap.

"Not a morning person?"

"Mhmmm. And it's not morning. It's after twelve."

"Riiiiiiight." Greg sat down next to her in the stool and leaned against the counter.

"Don't give me lip, kid," Rose said like she would to Molly or Lily.

Greg snorted.

"So I've been thinking about what you said," he said.

"About what?"

"About the Harpies, and how they're incapable of winning the league this year," he said.

"Yeah?"

"And I still disagree. The only reason why they lost that Cannons match was luck."

"No it wasn't. Don't lie. I'm smarter than you."

"Don't make me laugh, Weasley. I'm a Ravenclaw."

"With the arrogance of a Gryffindor."

"No different than your brother, really."

"Hugo gets a pass because he's a Weasley."

"And Albus?"

"He gets a pass because his intelligence backs up his arrogance, and, really, his arrogance isn't that bad. It's more of a perceived arrogance, actually. He doesn't have the venom Hugo does."

"Anyway, the Cannons had a lucky game. _Because_, don't interrupt Weasley, because it was one of Swod's first games."

"That means nothing, and we both know it."

"It means everything!"

"She has the best record in the b-league. Don't pretend she doesn't. And she won the first game against the Tornadoes, only letting in four goals. They have Gertrude and Nix, two of the best chasers in the league. They're in second place. Don't tell me she doesn't have mad skills."

"That's my point, though! She does have 'mad skills'. The problem is that the Cannons caught her on a bad day. Don't tell me people don't have bad days."

"Professional quidditch players are not allowed to have bad days."

"Bullshit."

Rose snorted and looked at him. He leaned back in the stool and crossed his arms, his cap on backwards, now. He looked like an idiot in those robes with that hat. She shook her head and continued reading about the Australian seeker.

"Seriously, though. Swod's the best keeper in the league."

"Wood."

"No way."

"Yes way. How can Wood not be the best keeper? She was personally trained by her father."

"She's way too young."

"And every game the Possums play, the score is under two-fifty. Why? Because Wood keeps everything out of the goals."

"But they lose every game!"

"Because their seeker is crap."

"No! That's not the only reason!"

"Their average score is one hundred and ten. You know how much Wood lets in on average per game? Fifty. And you're going to tell me they lose because their seeker isn't crap? He hasn't caught the snitch once all season, even against the Cannons, and they really need a new seeker, too. So don't sit there and tell me that Wood isn't brilliant just because her team loses every game!"

"Excuse me," Greg said, putting his hands up defensively. "I think you're deranged. There is _no_ way that Wood is better than Swod. None. Remember the Possum-Harpies game? Yeah, that's what I thought. The Harpies chasers pummeled Wood to the ground…"

"And that has nothing to do with the Harpies having some of the best chasers in the game who have been working together for almost two decades? Or that it was Wood's first game in extreme weather conditions and the Harpies were the home team? Or that half the game was kept by Johanas? When Swod went in there, the Possums got five consecutive goals…"

"While in that same time-period, Wood let in ten!"

"Bogus! She let in ten because her beaters didn't give her adequate coverage!"

"Whoa, you guys are loud," Vicky said, stepping up to the counter.

"When did you get in here?" Rose snapped, staring at her cousin. How dare she interrupt the argument of a lifetime?

"Just now; you must not have heard the bell in the heat of battle. I'm here looking for Uncle G, where is he?"

"Out with lunch with my dad," Rose answered simply, staring coldly at Vicky.

"Oh, and Greg, Rose is right. She always is when it comes to quidditch."

"If you're trying to get on my good side, it isn't working."

Vicky looked at Rose, her face slightly pale and surprised. Rose clenched her jaw, digging in her heels for any opposition.

"I'll wait for him in the back," Vicky said, offering a strained grin before slipping into the office.

"I'm telling you Swod is the best keeper in the league."

"Ridiculous."

The bell tinkled above the door again and a customer walked in. Rose eagerly went to help the young girl, yearning to get away from the ridiculously ignorant quidditch conversation with Greg. He was impossible to be around, even worse than Fred and George when they were adamently overprotective. She pushed the thought from her mind and bent down to help the kid.


	8. Chapter 8

Dislcaimer: Potter property is not mine. Not that I had to say it…

3

"Why do I have to go to the Burrow?" Rose whined, flopping down on the couch.

"Rose Lee! Go and get dressed this instant!" her mum hollered, the sound cutting Rose's head in half. She never would have thought a woman as innocent looking as her mum could be vicious. Then again, the same could be said about Lily.

"But mum…"

"No! Go put on proper clothing and do not even think that you're going to get out of this!"

"It's only Uncle Harry's birthday, though! Why can't I just stay home alone this one time?"

"Absolutely not."

"Hey, mum, do you know where I put my book on the mistreatment of dragons?" Hugo asked casually, coming into the room.

"Hugo, go put on another shirt," their mum said. "That one's dirty."

Hugo groaned and ducked back down the hallway.

"Rose, go get dressed," her mum said, still angry.

"There's no reason for me to go!"

"Why do you want to stay?"

"I just…I…"

"Not good enough, Rose!"

"Mum!"

"No!"

"I want to listen to the world quidditch semi-finals!"

"Absolutely not. Gin and Harry have the TV you can watch it on."

"Muuuuuuum! Where's my book?" Hugo called through the house.

"I don't know Ronald, why don't you go look for it?" her mum spat, thoroughly annoyed; she only used Hugo's first name when she was terribly upset. Rose grinned, knowing she didn't have that kind of leverage of her. She was always just "Rose" -- whether someone was mad, angry, annoyed, or completely irate. Her name never changed.

"Rose, do what your mum says," her dad said, his voice low and threatening. Rose glanced up at him. His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed, and his body tensed. When her father got like that, she was more nervous than she ever would be verbally sparring with her mother. Although her mum threatened her enough, her dad was the one that had the physical strength to back it up; there was no doubt Rose could take her mum…but her dad? Uncle Harry -- the Boy Who Lived -- couldn't even take her dad.

Reluctantly, Rose slipped down the hallway. She heard her mum mutter about her being "impossibly insufferable". Her dad just laughed.

3

Rose stood in front of the window, staring listlessly at the rain sloshing against the glass. There would be no playing quidditch today, no bossing around the team she was announced coach of, while Victoire took control of the other. Reluctantly, she went deeper into the Burrow, wrapping her arms around herself. She did not want to be here.

"Hey, Rose," James and Fred said, waving at her.

She sighed and sat down between her two cousins.

"When's the game starting?" Fred asked.

"An hour," Rose replied, gazing at the clock. "The pre-game's on. We should watch it. James?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're more of a fanatic than your dad."

"I'd be lying if I said I tried," Rose muttered, watching as the owner of the Harpies gloated about her keeper. "Swod isn't even that bloody good."

"Take that back," James said.

"You just like their practice uniforms," Rose said. "Don't pretend you don't."

"That's not it, though. They're a brilliant group of women."

"Harlots," Rose coughed less-than subtly. James nudged her in the ribs. Fred just chuckled.

"Like you're any better," Roxy said. "I've seen those posters on your walls."

Fred blushed bright red and grabbed his sister, drawing her in close to put his hand over her mouth. He muttered angrily in her ear. Roxy blushed and nodded before scampering off.

"Ah, so you _are_ a Cannons' fan. I should have guessed as much."

Rose looked up at the speaker, a new face to the Burrow.

"What're you doing here?" she asked Greg, adamantly crossing her arms.

"Well…James said it gets pretty lonely around here with Al for company, so he told me drop by. So I did. And that was that. I really think you need a Harpies sweatshirt. Besides, that Cannons one looks like it's been through the ringer a few times."

Rose looked down at her orange sweatshirt she'd had since she was nine. Yeah, it was a bit old. And it was still a bit big. And it was worn. The seams at the pocket were wearing loose and the cuffs were stained with dirt that no amount of washing shook free.

"If I were to get you one, would you wear it?"

"If you got me one, I'd burn it in front of you and tell you that you just wasted three galleons."

Greg snorted and sat on the couch next to James.

"I wouldn't do it," Fred said. "She means it when she says stuff like that."

"And she'll probably make you eat it after, too," James muttered.

"Shove it -- both of you," Rose said loudly. "The game's started."

The two teams patrolled onto the field amidst the roaring crowd, took their positions, and waited for the whistle to blow.

"Antov shouldn't be playing," Rose said, pointing at the screen. "At least not keeper. Not against Knotts as seeker. Knotts is going to easily get it before Sokolov. Yanev and Ignatiev are going to give Owens and Tin a run for their money, though. I mean, if they can target Knotts, then I think Sokolov might have a chance. But he needs to get the snitch early, before Knotts has a chance to find it and before the Austrailian chasers can score too many points. Mandy's going to be hard to control, but I think Iliev can handle her."

"What?" Greg just said, leaning forward. "There is no way Iliev can handle Mandy."

"Are you insane?" Rose yelled louder than she intended. "Iliev has made more brilliant plays in his career than Mandy's ever made!"

"That's only because Iliev has more experience!"

"_Exactly_! In a match like this, experience _always_ trumps potential! Mandy might be the next up-and-coming, but Iliev is the current star!"

"So are you suggesting Australia is going to lose?"

"No! They're going to win! And it might not be that big of a battle, even. But my point is Iliev is going to mute out any effect Mandy might have. She won't be that much of a player today."

"I disagree."

"Then we're just going to have to watch and figure it out, then, aren't we?"

"Pffft. You know I'm right."

"Greg," James said, throwing his arm over his new friend. "I have one thing to tell you. And that is, Rose is always right. At least about quidditch. I don't know what it is; she can't even ride a broom. But when you start talking tactics, you'd better know your stuff because she will out-knowledge you."

"Yeah, sure, because a little Gryffindor girl can outwit a Ravenclaw. Wohooo. Bite me."

"Don't tempt me," Rose muttered, turning her eyes to the game.


	9. Chapter 9

Dislcaimer: Hey y'all, guess what? I don't own harry potter property! I know, a shock, right?

3

"I can't believe you did that," Rose's mum said angrily, pacing back and forth in front of the couch in her living room. Rose crossed her arms and stared at her mum, equaling her anger.

"Greg had it coming," Rose muttered.

"No!"

"What do you want me to say? He taunted me!"

"Not an excuse!"

"Mum!"

"No!"

"What do you…"

"No!"

"But I…"

"No! Go to your room! I can't believe you _decked_ a guest!"

"First off, I didn't deck him, I gave him what was coming."

"To your room!"

"Secondly, he threw the first punch!"

"No he didn't! I watched the whole thing!"

"Well, you obviously missed something!"

"Go to your room until your father and I determine an adequate punishment!"

"Mum!"

"No! I swear on Merlin's dirty underwear, if you continue to be disobedient, I _will_ discipline you!"

Her mum meant business; the tell-tale crinkles on her forehead and wrinkles around her mouth betraying her intention. If Rose read her right, she wanted to smack her now. But she wouldn't. If there was one thing her mum wasn't, it was rash. Unlike Rose. Her rashness was what got her into this mess in the first place. Greg refused to stop talking. She had to shut him up. Especially because Mandy was being controlled by Iliev. He still acted like he was the most arrogant, smart ass person in the world. Someone had to put him in his place. She would have done the same thing had she been at Hogwarts or in the middle of Diagon Alley. You can't let Ravenclaws run off their mouths like that. They start to get dangerous, brave even. And then they get pompous. No, she had to keep him humble.

"I just want you to know," Rose said slowly, "I don't regret it."

Without another word from either party, Rose stood up and went into her room, where she sat on her bed and cracked open her book on non-verbal spells. It'd be fantastic if she could get a handle on them…the havoc she could cause in the hallway!

3

Rose sunk into Uncle Percy's pool, the cool water washing over her. Every year, at the beginning of August, they had one party for all the birthdays in August (Uncle Percy, Aunt Gin, Fred, Hugo, and Lucy). Later in the month, they would all go their separate ways and have parties with friends, but this was the family gathering. And today, Rose had no qualms about going to Uncle Percy's house, with central air and an in-ground pool. Even if Aunt Audrey, the only muggle in the family, had a strict no-magic policy.

"Argh!" Hugo shouted, jumping over Rose. Rose shook her head and watched her little brother flounder for a few seconds before finding his stroke. She snorted at how white he was -- he looked like a ghost. Just another thing that separated her from all the other Weasleys; she didn't even have to try to get tan. And she didn't burn, either. Al still stood on the edge of the pool, only in his swimming trunks. He was as white as Hugo. Hugo swam up to his cousin and splashed him, laughing all the while. Teddy -- his shirt crumpled besides him -- and Vicky -- looking like she would pop at any second -- sat on the edge of the pool, their feet in the water. Louis stole furtive glances in their direction, probably already developing the Weasley male protective complex.

"So, have you been condemned yet?" Fred asked, sliding into the pool next to Rose.

"Nope," Rose replied.

"Have any idea about what it's going to be about?" James asked, slipping in next to her.

"Nope."

"We've heard rumors," Fred said.

"Not good rumors, either," James added.

"Rumors about your future."

"And condemning it."

"What kind of rumors?" Rose demanded.

The two boys exchanged glances, worried looks on their face.

"Your mum doesn't want you to go to the world cup," Fred said in low tones.

"What?" Rose yelled.

"Shhhh!" Fred said. "We weren't supposed to tell you."

"But your dad wants you to go. Can't stand being alone with Hugo for more than a couple of days, not that I blame him. The Ravenclaw doesn't have any concept of self-control."

"You're one to talk, James," Rose said sharply.

"Look, all we're saying is don't be surprised if you're stuck at Shell Cottage," Fred said.

"Ugh," Rose muttered, sinking lower into the water. "I think I'm going to vomit."

3

"I don't know why Vicky wouldn't play chicken," Hugo said, shoveling potatoes into his mouth.

"Because she's pregnant, Hugo," Rose replied sharply, nudging her food around her plate with her fork.

"Eat your dinner, Rose. Don't play with it," her mum said.

"I'm not hungry," Rose said.

Her mum and dad exchanged glances.

"Can I have your potatoes?" Hugo asked, his eyes wide.

Rose glared at him and he backed down.

"What's wrong?" her dad asked and sighed. He always dragged his feet when he had to smooth things over with his daughter. Rose looked at him bitterly, picking up on his resentment.

"That's creepy," Hugo said slowly, glancing from his mum to his sister.

"What?" Rose demanded.

"You and mum….you looked at dad the same way."

"No we didn't," their mum said.

Rose rolled her eyes and got back to nudging her food around. She could feel her parents exchanging more glances and hear Hugo shoving food down his throat like an animal. Sometimes, she thought they should make him eat on the floor. It certainly wouldn't hurt anything.

"Rose, what's wrong?" her mum asked, a bit more gentle than her father.

Rose glanced at her. She was cutting up her chicken. There were two options; she could be a total pain and be all resistant, or she could just come clean quick. Tonight she really wasn't in fighting form. All she wanted to do was collapse in her bed and sleep. Dom was a terrible person to play chicken on. It didn't help that Rose couldn't balance if her life depended on it. But, at least for now, it was Dom's fault they didn't win any. Really, though, who would have thought Roxy and Fred would be unstoppable?

"Rose?"

She sighed and looked at her mum, shocked from her reverie.

"You aren't going to let me go to the cup," Rose muttered.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Fred and James."

"Well, they got the wrong information," her dad said.

"Really?"

"But you aren't going up for the whole time," her mum said.

"What?"

"You're going with Ted and leaving with him," her mum said.

"What?" Rose felt panic start to grip her. That didn't make any sense; why would she go with Ted? Wasn't he going with everyone else?

"He's going up a week after the rest of us," her dad said, idly pushing his beans around.

"What?" Rose felt like screaming. That was almost as bad as not being able to go at all. She would miss all the big events -- watching James and Fred try to set up the tent, seeing Aunt Ginny and Lily fumble around trying to evade Aunt Ginny's crazed quidditch fans, arguing with Dom and Vick about the pros and cons of each team, and discuss with Uncle George about who he should bet on. At the last cup, when she was ten, she was only off by twenty points on the score. This time, she anticipated being on target. But if she wasn't there for the betting, she wouldn't have a hand in it.

"I know you want to go for the entire time, but we think it's appropriate you only come up for the last three days," her mum said.

"Why isn't Teddy going up with the rest of you?" Rose demanded angrily.

"He's going to stay back for a few days and help out Vicky," her mum explained.

"What? Why?"

"The baby'll be born by then," her dad said. "Vick's going to have her hands full."

"Wait…so Vick's not going, either?" Rose said, beginning to get highly annoyed. What would a quidditch cup be without Vicky, the annoying devil's advocate who always managed to find holes in Rose's quidditch logic, presuming there were holes, be? Not good, that was for sure.

"Not with a newborn; are you kidding me?" her mum laughed. "I wouldn't let her! I don't think anyone else would, either."

"This is going to suck," Rose groaned, leaning back in her chair. "What's happening to her ticket?"

"We aren't sure, but James suggested we give it to Greg seeing as how you decked the poor bloke," her dad said.

"Ugh. Where's he going to sleep? The girl's tent'll be full."

"Ted or Lou will probably sleep in one of the girl's tents," her dad said.

"Fantastic. I always wanted to sleep next to my youngest cousin, who will probably be wearing a dress all week," Rose muttered.

"Angelina and Audrey aren't letting them bring dresses," her mum said. "We had quite the discussion about it earlier this week."

Rose sighed and ate some potatoes. They turned to ash in her mouth. She wasn't sure if not going at all or going with Greg and without Vick was a worse punishment.


	10. Chapter 10

Dislcaimer: DUN DUN DUN!!! Harry Potter property, my friends, is not mine. Sorry.

3

Rose leaned against the counter of the joke shop and stared out the window. Greg was silent next to her, his arms crossed defensively. His eye was still black, having refused to let Aunt Ginny or even Vicky -- a trained healer -- fix him up. Rose thought he was being overly dramatic about the whole thing. She had gotten in fist fights with James and Fred, sometimes both of them at the same time. Greg had caused her more of a chastisement than any of her spats with James and Fred have gotten her. She was rather resentful for how much of a baby the Ravenclaw was being, really.

"Oi! Hurry up and close up!" Fred shouted, stumbling down the stairs to the apartment where he lived and leaving a trail of ash under his feet.

"What? Why're we closing? We have four hours left," Rose said, looking up at her older cousin.

"Dad! Dad!" He yelled, his voice cracking a bit.

"What?" Uncle George demanded from the back room.

"You need to go to the Burrow!"

"Fred…what's wrong?" Uncle George asked, coming out of his office, a quill in his hands.

"Uncle Ron told me to tell you to go to the Burrow."

"Why?"

"You and him need to watch the kids," Fred said, his voice still frantic. "You need to go. I don't think…Teddy's…Al can't control them for too long…"

"Where's your grandmum?" Uncle George asked.

"The hospital!" Fred shouted, pulling his hair.

"What the bloody hell happened to her?" Uncle George demanded. "I'm supposed to watch the children when my own mum's in the hospital? Forget it! I'm going straight there."

"Dad!"

Uncle George disapparated.

"Shit!" Fred shouted.

"So Grandmum's in the hospital?" Rose asked, locking the cash box.

"No. _Vicky_'s in the hospital," Fred said through gritted teeth. "She's having the baby."

"It's early isn't it?" Rose asked, quickly locking the door.

"Well…she wasn't expecting her for a few more weeks," Fred explained, quickly locking up the windows. "But the baby'll survive."

"So we should go where?" Rose asked, locking the door to the office.

"Burrow. Greg, you can go home," Fred said. "You floo first, Greg."

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"We'll let you know when," Fred said, patting him on the shoulder. Greg nodded and stepped into the green flames. He disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"Rose?"

Rose stepped into the flames, commanded to be delivered to the Burrow, and stepped into the quietest group of Weasleys she had ever been a part of. Everyone was sitting still, even Molly. They all sat facing the fireplace, probably waiting for someone to floo.

"Get out of the fireplace," Lily said scathingly.

Rolling her eyes, Rose sat down between Albus and Molly, both of them stiff as boards. The fire flared green and nearly everyone stood up. When Fred stumbled out of the hearth, they all sat down with a groan. Rose looked around; Dom and Lou weren't there. Nor were any of the women.

"So what's up?" Rose asked.

"Vicky's in labor," Molly whispered, leaning towards the older girl.

"Well…yeah…anything else?"

"They're worried about the baby being in the wrong position."

"And that means…"

"They might have to give her a c-section," Al said bitterly, looking at me like I committed a deadly sin.

"Oh, so…is anyone up for a game of exploding snap?" Rose asked, taking out a deck of cards from her shop robes.

"Our cousin might need major surgery, and you're worried about a game of exploding snap?" Al said with venom.

"I am," Molly said, sliding off the couch and onto the floor. Rose followed after her, along with Lily, James, Fred, Roxy, Hugo, and Lucy.

"I can't believe you," Al muttered, crossing his arms stubbornly.

3

"Dad! I'm not staying here all night!" Rose yelled as loud as she could. She could hear the mumbling downstairs stop.

"Look, we need your help in controlling the younger kids," her dad said in low tones.

"No! I want to go home!"

"Rose!"

"Why can't I go home?"

"No one's going to be there."

"You don't trust me?"

"That's not it, Rosie."

"Then what is it?"

"Look, when your grandmum and mum and Aunts come back from the hospital, they're going to be in no shape to chase after Louis and Lily and Lucy and Molly and Roxy and all of them. Ok? They're going to crash. And then they're probably going to go back, if only to sit in the waiting room again, waiting to see if Vick's alright. _You_, young lady, are the oldest operating Weasley female."

"The way you say it makes it sound like a _disease_," Rose spat.

Her dad looked at her, a confused look on his face for a second.

"Ugh," Rose said, bristling passed her father. "Fine. Whatever."

She slipped down the stairs and -- seeing that no one had started cooking dinner and it was already seven -- started cooking.

3

Rose flopped back on her bed and stared at the stars on her ceiling. She heard Hugo in the room next to hers, banging around and packing for the cup. Her mum was shouting something at her dad, probably something to do with his Cannon boxers; she hated them. The shouting stopped. Hugo stopped bumbling around. There was a knock on her door.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"Are you packed?" her mum said, pushing open the door.

"What do you mean? I'm not leaving for a bit, aren't I?"

"You're not staying here alone."

Rose groaned and rolled over, digging her face into her pillow. After nearly four days at the Burrow, she had four days at home and working, and now she had to leave again. Her summer was quickly going down the toilet. Three cheers for August.

"Where am I being dragged?" Rose asked, dejected.

"Shell Cottage, now pack up. We need to drop you off before we catch the portkey."

Groaning, Rose grabbed her knapsack her mum charmed earlier and dumped the contents of some drawers in there, not really noticing what she was toting around. Shouldering the bag, she followed her mum into the kitchen. Her dad and brother were already in there, whispering excitedly. When Rose entered, they stopped. She knew they were talking about the cup. She should be going with them. She dropped her bag on the ground and slumped in a chair. But no. She was going to Shell Cottage. To have quality time with Aunt Fleur, the only Weasley along with Vicky and Grandmum who wasn't going to the cup.

"Rose -- grab your bag and hold on tight. We're aparating," her mum said.

Grudgingly, Rose put one hand securely around her mum's waist and the other securely around the strap to her bag. She hated apparating.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Same old, same old, potter property ain't mine, griddles!

3

The pipes rushed with water upstairs, Vicky starting up the shower. Rose stopped sweeping for a moment, again lamenting the fact that Shell Cottage was on the beach: the amount of sand that managed to creep into the house was astronomical. She walked over to where the little baby slept in her basket-thingy by the windows, in a convenient place for Vicky so she didn't have to climb up the stairs every time the kid decided to cry. Evidently c-sections hurt more than they sound like they do.

"Hey, Rosie, where's Vick?" Teddy asked, stepping out of the fireplace.

"Showering," Rosie replied. "So are you going to tell me what our travel plans are?"

Ted stood next to her and looked into the basket, admiring his daughter.

"We'll go through international floo to a location in Austrailia, where we'll catch a portkey to the game. Then, we'll track down the family and enjoy ourselves." He sighed deeply, his hand gently rubbing his daughter's head. "I think she's going to look just like my mum."

"Yeah?"

"Look, she's already showing signs of metamorphmagus powers," Teddy said proudly.

"Really? Because after three days, I have not seen an ounce of that ability."

"Well…you wouldn't, would you? You aren't one. I, however, know the signs."

"Mmhmmmm."

"No, really, have you seen her eyes? They're still ambiguous."

"Most newborns' eyes are, Ted."

"Not like hers."

Rose laughed, unable to control herself. Teddy was so adamant. It was quite adorable, really, more ridiculous than anything. The fire flared behind them and Grandma Weasley came out on the hearth.

"Oh, hello, Teddy," she said, carrying a casserole dish. "I have lunch. Where's Victoire and Fleur?"

"Upstairs," Rose said, resuming sweeping.

"And how's little Flora doing?" her grandma asked, taking Rose's place by Teddy.

"Sleeping since I got here," Teddy said, scratching his head.

"Hello, grandmama," Victoire said, slowly coming down the stairs.

"Ah, Victoire, there you are," Grandma Weasley said. "Rosie, take this to the kitchen?"

Rose tucked the broom under her arm and took the pan, bringing it into the kitchen. She didn't go back out.

3

Rose sat on the other end of the couch of Teddy, the two of them facing Vicky who was situated on the loveseat, passed out at the moment. Neither Teddy nor Rose said anything. Rose was too tired to talk; Flora refused to sleep through the night. Teddy kept his gaze steadily between Flora's basket and the snoozing Vick.

"Uh…Rose?" Ted said.

"Mhmm?" Rose groaned, turning her eyes in his direction.

"I'm not going to be going with you to the cup."

"What?" Rose sat up immediately, not happy with that response.

"Fleur…her family in France is…well…her father is dieing -- something to do with a brain aneurism that not even magic can cure."

"What does that have to do with you?" Rose spat. "Why can't you go?

"I need to stay here and take care of Vick."

"Don't do that," Vicky murmured, opening her eyes. "Go to the cup; you'll never forgive me if you miss it."

"I already know how it's going to end -- Aussies on top, as always. No one can control Mandy if Iliev can't."

"Teddy, everyone's going to be crushed when you don't show up," Vicky said.

"Relax, Vick, I'm sending a good replacement."

"Really, who?"

"Frankie."

"What? No! No no no no no no no no!" Rose yelled, standing up angrily. "You _cannot_ send Frank in place of _you_! Merlin! I'm going to be completely run out! I'm going to have to hang out with Molly and Lucy and Roxy and Lily and Lou! That's disgusting! I…"

"Be quiet before you wake up Flora," Vicky hissed, glancing at the baby beginning to stir in her basket. "Ted, can you help me up?"

Rose flopped back on the couch as Ted grabbed hold of Vicky's arms and pulled her to a standing position. Vick stretched and yawned.

"Does it still hurt a lot?" Teddy asked.

Vicky deliberately straightened her back and squared her shoulders, grimacing all the while. She gave a terse nod before walking towards Flora.

"What're going to tell Dom? He's really expecting you to be there, Ted," Vicky said, her hand disappearing into the basket. "He's going to be pissed at you."

Rose crossed her arms. Fantastic. They were more concerned about Dom than her. Typical. She was, after all, just Rose. She could fly with Jim and Fred, goofing off with the best, or be "girly" with Molly and Lily, immature with Lou and Luce. But she didn't want any of that. All she wanted was intelligent conversation surrounding quidditch. No one could offer the depth or expansiveness Ted and Vick gave. Woe be to Dom, who only has the adults for company. This was so unfair.

"I don't know. I sent them an owl this morning explaining everything…so…"

"Rose, why don't you go and bring in the laundry?" Vicky said. It was more of a demand than a question. Muttering how she resented being treated like a house elf, Rose slipped outside to the clothesline. The cup without Teddy or Vicky? This was turning into more of a punishment than she would have liked.

3

"I'm leaving you two here," Teddy said to Frank and Rose, looking around. "I'll wait until the others get here, but the portkey leaves in a few minutes, so everyone should be here soon." He glanced at his pocket watch and nodded. "Yeah, uh…Arty should be there to greet you at the gate. You have the muggle money?"

"Yep," Frank said, a grin on his face.

"I don't think you'll need it, but just in case."

Rose crossed her arms and stared at Teddy. She couldn't believe she was actually going to the cup with Frank. _Frank Longbottom_. Could it be Ally? No. Of course not. Why would it be someone Rose would actually enjoy the company of? That would be breaking the silent pact her family had to make this experience as grudging as possible.

Within fifteen minutes, four other people had shown up -- three of them decked out in full Austrailian regalia, and the third a dignified looking fellow in a suit and tie.

"We'd better touch the key," the well-dressed man said, glancing at his watch.

"Bye," Teddy said, clapping Frank and Rose on the back. "Have fun."

Rose touched the portkey and seconds later the uncomfortable lurching pulled at the back of her stomach.

3

**AN**: So I'm rushing uploads because I REALLY want to get to the quidditch cup out there. I think it's a rather amusing sequence, so, yeah. After it's all said and done, I'll probably ease back into a more relaxed schedule…maybe…hope you enjoy.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Even though I've read it almost twenty times, I still don't own Harry Potter…

3

Rose slumped next to Lou and crossed her arms. Fred, James, Greg, Dom and Frank were still in their tent. She could hear them cackling about one thing or another, the occasional argument, the sporadic cry of amused pain. She glanced at Lou. For once, he wasn't in a skirt. He had spiked his hair meticulously, even in the middle of camping, and was wearing a quarter-zip blue fleece sweatshirt with the Australian flag emblazoned on the breast. Lily and Molly didn't look nearly as put-together as Lou. In fact, they looked quite the opposite. Both of them had haphazardly thrown their hair up, they wore sweatshirts that were too big on them (Lily a Harpies sweatshirt, Molly a Manchester United sweatshirt), and both were still in their pajama pants. Hugo and Al were both reading books -- Al his usual fare and Hugo a book on dragon mistreatment. Roxy and Lucy were giggling about something.

"Do you think Knotts has what it takes?" Lou asked, his arms folded over his chest, his legs crossed. Rose glanced at her younger cousin, amused by his general demeanor. He seemed much more like Aunt Fleur than either of his siblings -- completely with it and perfectly perfect in a totally Gryffindor sort of way.

"Yes," Rose answered confidently.

"Oi! Rose," Hugo said, suddenly looking up from his book. "Mum wanted to talk with you last night before you went to bed, but I forget to tell you. You might want to go check in now."

Groaning, Rose lifted herself from the log she and Lou were situated on.

"I'll explain more later, if you want," Rose said, abandoning Lou. The boy nodded once, his face the epitome of seriousness. He was probably the only one of her younger cousins she could stand for more than three minutes.

She made her way to her parent's tent. How they managed to get their own tent was beyond her. She was sharing a tent with all the girls -- Molly, Lucy, Lily, Roxy, and Lou. She was just glad she didn't have to share a room with Hugo. That would not go over well. At all. He was just so…useless sometimes. Her mum insisted he took after their dad. It didn't explain why he was in Ravenclaw, though; her mum took credit for those genes.

She unzipped her parent's modest tent and slipped inside.

"Ronald…I really don't like those boxers on you," her mum cooed.

Rose was rooted to the spot, unable to move as her mum slipped her fingers down her father's boxers, gently coaxing them off his body. They slid down, compliant to her touch. Quickly, Rose turned around, not wanting to see anymore.

"Mione, I must say," her dad replied. "Those panties just don't do you justice."

Rose felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Without wasting any time, she noisily tried to get out of the tent unnoticed.

"ROSE?" her dad shouted, quickly reinstating his boxers. "What are you doing here?"

"Hugo…" Rose cleared her throat. "Hugo said you wanted to talk with me."

"Merlin, girl, don't you make any noise?" her dad demanded.

"Why don't you…why don't you go have some breakfast and we'll catch up later?"

Nodding, Rose finished exiting the tent, not looking back. She went to the log by the dieing fire and sat down next to Lou, her eyes wide and her cheeks still flushed.

"You alright?" Lou asked, putting his hand on her knee. Rose looked at him; he spent way too much time with Lucy and Roxy.

"Yeah," she replied shortly, offering a sigh and rubbing her eyes.

3

Rose stared at Fred, anger burning her stomach.

"Australia's going to lose," he said again, reclining on the ground.

James, Greg, and Frank sat on a log, watching the transaction with wide eyes.

"They're going to win," Rose growled, refraining from getting technical with her…impaired…cousin. He wouldn't understand the tactical differences between the two keepers if she spent hours trying to explain it to him. Fred was almost as dense as Hugo.

"No they aren't! Brazil is going to win! Didn't you hear them last night? Nothing is going to stop them!"

"Fans having nothing to do with playing the game!"

"Wrong! They have everything to do with it! Without proper support, how're the teams supposed to rally?"

"I agree that something is to be said about having a strong fanbase, however, talent trumps fans every time. Especially because no one can match Mandy. The beaters are mismatched, too. The lead for Brazil really ought to be the defender, and the defender the lead. They need to switch it if they're going to be successful at all."

"What are you even talking about? There's no 'leads' in quidditch."

"Fred," Greg said, shaking his head. "She's right."

"I play beater; there's no lead."

"I'm lead," James said.

"What?"

"The one that initiates plays and formations and attacks is the lead. Then there's the defender -- the supporter. That's usually you, although we switch it up moment by moment, so…" James said, shrugging.

"Look…I may not know much about the behind the scenes thing, but I do know Brazil is going to win."

"No, mate," Frank said, shaking his head.

"Rose is right," Greg admitted, shrugging.

"How confident are you?" Fred asked, crossing his arms, a glint in his eye.

"The question is -- are you so confident that if you're wrong, you'll let the guys deface your body with paint, go to the middle of the Brazillian Pavilion, and scream profanities about their lack of skills?" Rose asked, grinning. She would really love to see Fred make a fool of himself. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.

"The question is," Fred said, returning the dare, "are you and guys confident enough that if you're wrong, you'll all dress up like frilly little girls and run around camp looking for your dolly, while crying all the while?"

"Yes," Rose said, speaking for all of them. She saw Frank start out of the corner of her eye. Greg calmed him down.

"Well, then, it seems we have a bet," Fred said, spitting in his hand and offering it to Rose. She spit in her hand and shook on it. She wiped her hand off on her pants. It was on.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Hey, guess what? I don't own potter property…or I wouldn't be writing fanfic…

3

Dom wrapped his arms around Rose tightly, squeezing the air out of the girl.

"Dom!" she cried, struggling for breath.

"Australia won! Australia won!" he screamed, repeating it again and again.

He hooked his arms under Rose's and swung her around. Rose screamed in surprise and laughed hysterically. He hadn't done that to her for a couple of years. His arms tightly squeezed her again.

"Let me go, Dom!" Rose laughed, pushing him away.

"Australia won!" he shouted, putting his hands on Rose's shoulders and shaking her slightly. "Australia won!"

"Of _course_ they won!" Rose shouted back, putting her hands on his tall shoulders and shaking back.

"Dom, you're going to give her a concussion," Uncle Bill said.

"Australia won!" Dom said, turning to his father, his arms out wide. He grabbed Lou and lifted him onto his shoulders.

"Dom, what're you doing?" Lou demanded, hitting his older brother on the head.

"Australia won!" Dom started running around in circles, Lou demanding to be put on the ground.

"Hey, Fred," Greg said, flinging his arm over Fred's shoulders. "You ready to make a fool of yourself?"

3

Greg sat down next to Rose on the log and gazed at his watch. Rose glanced around at the boys, all of them silently anticipating the fallout. The fire crackled in front of them, Louis standing over it with a hotdog on the end of a stick. Molly and Lily had gone for a walk with Aunt Ginny. They wouldn't be back for at least an hour. The uncles were out celebrating with some Aussies -- along with Aunt Audrey and Angie -- and Rose's mum was with Luce and Roxy, probably painting their nails or something of the sort.

And Fred? Fred was currently sneaking through the campground under the invisibility cloak, making his way to the middle of the Brazilian camp, where he would take off the cloak and reveal his naked body painted with anti-Brazilian sentiments and pro-Australian support. Rose grinned, excited to hear the response of the Brazilian supporters.

"He should be there by now," Greg said, looking up into the camp.

"Brazil sucks!" Fred's voice echoed.

Dom started laughing. Before Fred left, Dom -- being the only one of them actually of age -- had cast some "protective" charms on him. Evidently, _sonorus_ was one of the "protective" charms.

The roar of angry men and upset women radiated through the campground. Rose started laughing, unable to contain it. She could hear Fred yelling obscenities through the camp. She just laughed harder to the point where her sides hurt. Dom counted under his breath.

"Greg, would he be in the Australian camp by now?" Dom asked, glancing down the line of boys.

"I do believe so."

Dom pulled his wand.

"Accio Cloak."

Almost immediately, there were howls of laughter and cheers of support along with some disapproving grunts. Dom tossed the silvery cloak at James, who quickly ducked into the tent and put it away. Rose laughed harder, the obscenities again echoing through the camp. She saw him round the corner, running as fast as she could, a look of horror on his face. Rose doubled up and fell on the ground. Fred jumped over a log and ducked into the tent.

Wiping tears from her eyes, she sat up, her back to the log, and tried to breathe normal.

"Was that Fred?" Uncle George said, his face beet red, as the group of adults approached the tent.

Aunt Angie pushed by Uncle George and stepped over Rose sprawled on the ground. She intruded in the boy's tent and started screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Merlin," George said, scratching his head. "I have never seen her that angry before. Well…at least not in awhile. I should just let it blow over for a few hours. Boys…don't go in there for a bit, eh?"

Rose started laughing again, tears streaming down her face as she heard Fred try and plead his case -- unsuccessful, of course -- and Aunt Angie interrupting him with increasing fury. This was just too good.

3

"Rose Lee Weasley!" her mum shouted, nearly as angry as Aunt Angie was. "How dare you put your cousin up to this!"

"Mum!"

"No! None of that! You know better than to put Fred up to this…this…this nonsense!"

"Mum!"

"Stop! Rose, I've had enough of your attitude!"

"What attitude?"

"This attitude! The attitude that you think you can get away with anything!"

"I don't think that!"

"Yes you do."

"No I don't!"

Her mum started pacing.

"I wasn't even the one who used magic! It was all Dom who did _sonorus_ on him, and then accio'ed the cloak! I had nothing to do with it! I didn't even mention it to Dom! He brought it on himself. I don't see Uncle Bill yelling at Dom!"

"This isn't about Dominique! This is about _you_ and _your_ misconceptions! Do you get that? Do you understand what I'm talking about?"

Rose crossed her arms and stared at her mum, quickly digging in her heals.

"You, Rose, are perhaps the smartest Weasley! You can even compete with Al if you want! You can be Prefect! Headgirl, even!"

"Do _not _put on me what you never had a chance to do!" Rose yelled suddenly, realizing where this was going. "Do not expect me to get headgirl because you never did! Don't expect me to get prefect just like you! I am not you!" she stood up, eye level with her mother.

"Obviously not!" her mother rebutalled. "You have _so_ much potential you _refuse_ to use! You don't apply yourself to your studies."

"I resent that! I work harder than Fred and James combined! So don't sit there and tell me I don't work hard!"

"I highly doubt that."

"What? Just because I don't go flaunting around my grades means I don't work hard? You _saw_ my marks!"

"Marks mean nothing."

"How can marks mean _nothing_? They're the only thing that _does_ matter!"

"For all I know, you could be cheating on everything! Marks mean _nothing_!"

"You know what? I'm done," Rose said angrily, standing up and moving to leave.

"No you aren't!"

"Yes, mum, I am!"

She unzipped the tent and left.

"Rose Lee Weasley! Get back in here!" her mum shrieked.

Rose ignored her and dove onto the beach, ignoring the looks from her cousins. She had to get away. There was only so much insult she could take from her mum. It was ridiculous. Maybe it'd be fine if she was actually yelling at her for something that needed to be pointed out. But she was doing her best in school, studying as hard as she needed to in order to get top marks. She wasn't getting detentions. She wasn't getting points taken. She wasn't doing anything wrong. Her mum had no right to attack her for it.

She stopped at the edge of the ocean, the water getting her shoes slightly wet. Someone had followed her. She knew they had. Someone always followed her. She resisted looking over her shoulder, instead focusing on the moon hanging low in the sky.

"She's just worried," her dad said, standing next to Rose.

Rose bit back an answer. She didn't want to talk. Not to anyone.

"She's afraid you'll fall into the same traps she did."

"That doesn't even make any sense," Rose snapped. "She talks about how inferior I am to her and then you come here and tell me she's worried I'll have all of her failings."

"It's a front."

"I'm nothing like her."

Her dad snorted.

"I'm not!"

"Look, Rosie, when we adopted you, we were told you had an incredible amount of magical ability, a solid head on your shoulders, and a stubbornness that could match even Ginny. They were so happy when they found out Hermione would be your mum -- they knew she could challenge you, being such a fantastic witch herself."

"I don't see what this has to do with anything."

"Your mum's just as sharp as you. She probably understands you better than you realize."

"Then why wasn't she headgirl if she was so brilliant? Huh? Why didn't she graduate top of her class? I _am_ top of my class, and you can't cheat your way there!"

"Rose…that's complicated. For the first six years, she _was_ top of the class, she _was_ on her way to being headgirl."

"Then what happened? She slipped, didn't she? What? Is she afraid of me slipping? Because I won't."

"She didn't slip."

"Then she burned out?"

"No!"

Her dad was getting agitated, his voice rising sharply.

"I can't talk about that right now. Maybe when you're older, maybe not. We'll see."

Rose rolled her eyes. They were also so cryptic sometimes. It kind of annoyed her, more than anything.

"Let's just say that you get to have something neither your mum nor me ever had, and I doubt your mum wants you to waste it."

"And what's that?"

"Seven years of a peaceful Hogwarts."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Later. I'll explain later. Now, come on. I hear Dom set a pretty good fire and Lou got his hands on some marshmallows."

"Why didn't Dom get ripped a new one?" Rose muttered, following her dad back to the site.

"Bill found it funny. I have a feeling Fleur is going to give him a lashing, though."

"I hope so."

Her dad laughed, wrapping his arm around his daughter, and kept walking.

3

AN: Ok, so I thought I'd just take this opportunity to give you a projection for how long I think this thing is going to end up. Right now, it looks like 60+ chaps of about 1k each more or less, and I'm not quite done with the thing. Sooo….I'll let you guys figure that one out on your own. I'll keep you posted as I finish up. Thanks for reading and the reviews. =D


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: It's called FANfic for a reason…

3

"Rose, Hugo, go try on your uniforms," their mum said, sipping her coffee.

Rose sighed and continued drinking her coffee, ignoring her mum.

"Why?" Hugo asked disdainfully, his mouth full of cereal.

"To see if they still fit," their mum said, her voice strained as she tried to muster patience. She had stayed up late again last night, trying to squeeze in a new piece of legislation before the new quarter started. Today was not a good day to test her.

"Ok," Hugo said, shrugging.

"Now," their mum demanded. "We need to get to Diagon Alley early if we're going to get everything we need."

Hugo slid from his chair and went down the hallway. Rose took another sip of her coffee. Her mum glared at her. She took another sip of coffee. Her mum cleared her throat. She took another sip of coffee.

"Rose?"

"Mmm?"

"Go try on your uniform."

"Why? It isn't like I got any taller."

Her mum snorted.

"What?"

"You very well may have developed a bit more over the summer, Rose," her mum muttered.

Rose stared at her mum for a moment, unsure of what to say to that.

"I think I would notice if that was the case," Rose said angrily and took another sip of her coffee.

"You sure? You don't exactly wear the most form-fitting clothes."

Her mum smirked. Rose's heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened. She probably _wouldn't_ have noticed…biting back her doubt, she sipped her coffee again, trying to give off an air of confidence. Her mum laughed.

"Go put on your uniform," her mum said, filling her cup with more coffee.

Rose looked at her mum for a few seconds, her lips tightly pressed together. She could go right now and look eager, or wait for her mum to make the demand and stroll of nonchalantly. Despite the fact that her heart was ready to jump out of her ribcage -- the uncertainty of her mum's claims beginning to get to her -- she leaned back in her chair and took another sip of her coffee.

"Rose," her mum said, her voice low and threatening punishment.

"Fine," Rose sighed, making a big deal about hauling herself out of the chair.

She slumped down the hallway, dreading trying on her pants. She shook the thought from her mind; her pants would fit fine. She was overreacting. The past two years, she hadn't needed new uniforms, why would she need them now? Her mum had deliberately gotten the shirts and pants and skirts and sweaters a bit big so she could grow into them. They'd fit fine. No, better than fine, perfectly.

Her trunk squeaked open and she pulled out her pair of dark grey pants and four skirts as well as the white button-down shirts and jumper. She stared at them spread out on her bed, taunting her. Stripping off her pants, she grabbed the grey ones and stepped into them, wriggling them up her hips. When they reached her knees, she realized they probably wouldn't button. Angrily, she pulled them the rest of the way up and managed to button and zip them, not that they were comfortable, though. She pulled off her tee-shirt and put on her button-down shirt. She pursed her lips, buttoning the shirt. It was tight, particularly around her chest. When had her boobs become substantial? She pulled her jumper over her head. At least that fit pretty well.

Leaving the comfort of her room, she went out to the kitchen for the inspection. Hugo was sitting at the table in his uniform, eating a bowl of cereal, his Ravenclaw necktie draped over his shoulders. He looked up and stared.

"Don't say a word," Rose snarled, crossing her arms adamantly.

"Well," her mum said. "The jumper still fits. Take it off."

Reluctantly, Rose slid it over her head.

"Go put on the skirt."

Back in her room, she took off her pants. They stuck to her skin in an incredibly annoying fashion. She put on the skirt. Again, the waistband was a little snug, and the length was a bit short, not quite coming down to her knees. She went back out to the kitchen.

"Try these," her mum said, piling four pairs of pants, two skirts, and a few shirts.

"Where did you get these?" Rose asked, looking at her mum apprehensively.

"I…popped over to Shell Cottage," her mum said. "They're Vick's old things. Don't look at me like that. She only wore most of them for one or two years at the most. She went through more clothes than Ted and Dom combined. Come on, now, go try them on. And bring me your clothes so I can go see if Audrey or Gin needs them."

Stifling a groan, Rose slipped back to her room. Much to her chagrin, Vick's old stuff fit oddly well, except for the length, but her mum magically hemmed them on the spot. She dumped her old stuff on the table and her mum scooted it all into a bag.

"Your robes still fit?" she asked, magically folding the shirts in the back.

"I guess," Rose shrugged.

"Go put them on."

Not bothering to stifle her groan, Rose descended back to her room, rubbing against the grinding thumb of her mum.

3

"Keep your head down, don't get in trouble, and study hard," Rose's mum said, cupping Rose's face with her cool hands.

"I know, mum."

"Start the year off strong."

"Of course."

"Don't let anyone let anyone look down on you, Rose. You're a powerful young witch. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Can I go now? Fred's going to put a whoopee cushion under my seat."

Her mum sighed.

"Are you even listening to me?" she asked.

"Of course," Rose replied. "Keep my head down, don't get in trouble, study hard, start the year off strong, don't let anyone insult me. The usual stuff. A bit long-winded, though."

"I love you."

"Yeah, I love you, too. Can I go now? I'm seriously worried about Fred…"

"Go ahead and have fun."

Her mum's hands slipped from her cheeks. Grinning, Rose dragged her trunk onto the train. She slipped into the compartment with Fred, James, Frank, and Greg and removed the whoopee cushion from her seat before sitting down.

"What did your mum make you do?" Frank asked, staring at Fred.

"Clean the gutters the muggle way, scrub the pots my dad was testing dungbombs in, and cook every meal -- breakfast lunch and dinner -- and do dishes like a frickin muggle. I wanted to kill myself. What about you, Rose?"

"I just got blacklisted for a few days," Rose said, folding her hands behind her head. "Detained in my room, nothing out of the ordinary. James?"

"Oh…nothing I don't usually do at the end of vacation -- scraping bird poo from the under the perch, hand-scrubbing the floors, de-gnoming the garden alone, sanding and staining the kitchen table. Greg?"

"I didn't tell my parents I had anything to do with Fred's…adventure," he admitted, almost bashful; the post-summer account of punishments, disciplinary actions, and chastisements were almost a badge of courage. "If I did, my parents would not ever let me go over to the Burrow again. Frank?"

Frank rubbed his face in preparation.

"Scrubbing pots for three whole days. And my mum's pots, not my dad's. I thought my fingers were going to fall off," he said.

The compartment door slid open, a prefect standing there in full Hogwarts uniform -- a Hufflepuff.

"We're getting close to the school," he said absently. "You ought to change."

He closed the door and left.

They all reached under their seat and drew out various knapsacks, stocked with their uniform. As usual, Frank drew the shutter closed as the others took of their shirts and unbuckled their belts. Greg seemed a little surprised by the lack of modesty among his Gryffindor counterparts, most likely forgetting that three of them shared a room during the school year and the fourth was very much the cousin of all three.

Rose shook out her shirt and for the first time felt an overwhelming sense of apprehension. She glanced at the guys, wondering what they would think -- if anything -- once she put on her uniform. She pursed her lips, staring at Vick's old shirt.

"What's wrong?" James asked, pulling up his school pants.

"Nothing," Rose sighed, pulling her tee-shirt over her head.

She quickly shrugged into Vick's shirt and buttoned up. As usual, she slid her skirt on over her pants and then wriggled out of her jeans. Sitting down on the bench, she slid on her socks and school shoes, discarding her sneakers and white ankle socks. She leaned back and tied her tie before tucking in her shirt. She looked around. The boys hadn't noticed; they were preoccupied with trying to make their shirts look like they ironed them without actually ironing them.

The train ground to a halt. Rose shoved her muggle clothes and sneakers into her knapsack and pulled on her robes. They all filed out, eagerly awaiting the welcome feast, dreading the monotony of the sorting, the same as it was every year.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I aint got legalities sayin' I own this here Harry Potter.

3

Rose flopped down on her bed, not even bothering to take off her shoes or tie. She just managed to throw her robes on the chair by her bed. Diane and Annie were already sprawled on their beds, all three of the fourth years staring at the ceiling. Libby snuck in shortly after, Tony right behind her -- the two fifth years making their usual late entrance.

"Did you _see_ James?" Libby asked, falling on her bed, her voice captivated in that dreamy sort of way.

"Yeah," Annie sighed. "He got really cute."

"He was cute before," Diane corrected. "He's _hot _now. What did he do over the summer, Rose? Take some kind of potion?"

Rose snorted.

"Hardly," she said. "Worked at Wheezes all summer helping to establish the Hogsmeade shop."

"Oooh! There's a Hogsmeade shop?" Tony said excitedly, sitting up.

"Where have you been all summer?" Annie asked.

"It's not _my_ fault I don't get _The Prophet_."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Fred really grew up, too, huh?" Diane muttered.

Rose stifled a guffaw; oh, yes, he matured quite a bit at the quidditch cup -- his mum made sure of it.

"What was that, Rose?" Annie demanded, almost laughing, throwing a pillow at her.

"It's just…you guys talk about my cousins like they're hot ticket items. It makes me laugh. I mean, they don't even have basic table manners." Rose threw the pillow back at Annie.

"Of course they don't," Tony said. "But that doesn't mean we can't…admire their physique."

Rose groaned overdramatically.

"Did you notice how tall Chris got?" Diane said, turning the attention away from the Weasley clan.

"Yeah," Rose said, unable to hold back a grin. The Ravenclaw sixth-year prefect towered over everyone else, and it looked like he had practiced beating all summer, his muscles filling in nicely.

"It should be interesting to see who gets him," Tony mused.

"Probably a Hufflepuff," Annie muttered. "Some of those sixth years really are pretty."

"What's your definition of 'pretty'?" Tony scorned. "Big boobs? Because if that's the case, we have one contestant here."

Everyone turned to glance at Rose. Tony threw a stuffed bear at her, landing on top of Rose's head. Rose blushed and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. She knew someone would notice. A part of her just wished it'd be…someone other than her roommates, who will inevitably bring it up whenever they get a chance.

"Seriously, though," Annie said, "Chris is incredibly wonderful."

"Mmm," Libby said, half asleep. "Turn out the lights."

3

Rose plopped down on the ground next to Fred in front of the lake. James collapsed next to her. Frank next to Fred. She laid down, folding her arms behind her head, letting the autumn sun cascade over her. One month of school, four essays, and a history of magic exam left her already longing for summer. This was not a good sign.

"I need to do something," James said.

"Like what?" Fred asked.

"I don't know. Something," James said.

"Hey guys," Greg said, folding onto the grass. "What's up?"

"Eh…not much…trying to figure out what to do," James said. "Any ideas?"

"Stare at the sky," Greg said, laying down by Rose's head.

"Pfft," Frank snorted. "Yeah, because James can sit still for more than three minutes."

"You're one to talk," James muttered.

Frank stood up and shielded the sun from his eyes.

"Why don't we go swimming?"

"It's the end of September, Longbottom," Rose muttered, half asleep. "It's cold."

"You're wearing a Weasley sweater, Rosie. I think you'll be fine," Frank said.

"Your physic's is doubtful," Greg said, ending in a groan.

"What's wrong?" James asked.

"Chris," Greg muttered, motioning to the tall Ravenclaw heading their way, two others in tow.

At the name of the prefect, Rose sat up and looked at him. He wore a blue zipper sweatshirt, a black teeshirt, and a pair of jeans. She pursed her lips, her heart pounding against her chest. His brown hair was flopping in front of his eyes, a bit of scruff on his chin.

"What do you have against him?" James asked. "Isn't he your fellow beater?"

"He's just a jerk," Greg muttered.

Rose glanced at him, slightly surprised. Looking back at Chris, an easy smile on his lips, she wondered how he could be a jerk; it didn't seem right. Maybe his quidditch taste was just as bad as his perception of people. Her heart jumped as she noticed he looked in her direction and kept walking towards them.

"Dammit," Greg hissed. "He probably wants me for quidditch. And here I was, thinking I got a bloody Saturday to myself."

"Hey, Greg, quidditch?" Chris asked, approaching. "Hey guys…and Rose."

He flashed a grin in Rose's direction, making her heart squeal in pleasure. Holding back that squealing, she offered a quick nod and a return of his grin. Chris looked back to Greg.

"We need to get ready for the Hufflepuff match coming up," he said.

"Yep, I'll be on the pitch after I get dressed," Greg said, pulling himself off the ground.

"I'll see you there," Chris said, watching Greg walk back to the castle. He turned his attention to Rose and smiled slightly. "I'll see you around, Rose."

Rose nodded, not thinking she could speak, and smiled at him. Leisurely, Chris turned and headed to the pitch. She let out her breath, watching him walk away in his nicely tight jeans.

"Stay away from him," James said sternly, staring hard at Rose.

"What? Why? That doesn't even make any sense," Rose said, surprised at her anger.

"He's not a good guy," James said.

"How do you know that? You don't know him. You have no authority to make assumptions about people."

"Greg doesn't like him."

"So what?"

"Greg's his fellow beater, that's what!"

"So?"

"So they know each other pretty well. If Greg says he's a jerk, then he's a jerk!"

"You're assuming things, James."

"So are you!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rose narrowed her eyes, ready for a battle.

"I _mean_ that just because he's got good hair, a nice body, and a cute smile, you think he's a good guy!"

"That's not true."

"No? Then what're you going on?"

"I…I just prefer not to think of people as inherently evil."

"Since when?"

Rose pressed her lips together, wondering how much trouble she would get in for trying to deck James in the middle of the grounds. Deciding it wasn't worth the risk, she stood up, furiously throwing her bag over her shoulder, and stormed off to the castle.

"Where are you going?" James shouted.

Rose ignored him; she didn't know.

"So," she heard Frank say. "You want to go visit the mermen?"


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Potter property isn't my own.

3

"Try not to get crumbs on my bed, eh?" Diane said, looking critically at Rose.

Rose just shrugged, biting messily into the pumpkin pasty and catching the crumbs in her hand, even though she did really want to annoy Diane; she was never one for making the house elves work more than necessary.

"So…Rosie…" Annie said on Rose's bed, her mouth full of pumpkin pasty. "Did he ask you to go with him to Hogsmeade, or not?"

"No," Rose said, shaking her head. "He just said hello."

"Really? From the way James was going on about it in potions, it sounded like he made a pass at you," Tony said, settling by Libby on Rose's bed.

"He didn't," Rose answered. "He's just…he's just being a Weasley."

"But he's a Potter," Libby objected.

Rose looked at her, her eyebrow raised.

"He's a part of the Weasley clan," she said. "He's going to act like a Weasley. He even has the hair, for crying out loud."

Libby shrugged and grabbed a bottle of butterbeer out of the bag Tony brought in with her after ransacking the kitchens. They passed the bottle around, everyone taking a sip.

"Tony, I hear you're going to Hogsmeade with the one and only Fred?" Annie asked.

Tony started laughing hysterically, clutching her sides and sloshing butterbeer all over the floor. Annie blushed a deep red and diverted her gaze. Diane looked a bit shocked.

"Tony," Libby said, sounding sarcastically hurt. "Why didn't you tell me you were cheating on me?"

"I'm not!" Tony howled, tears streaming down her face. "I'm not!"

Rose shook her head and grinned, always amused by her older roommates; the pair of them always managed to make light of any situation. Tony had had a crush on Fred for awhile, now, but neither of them had moved any closer to each other. The mention of such a rumor would undoubtedly pierce even her thick skin. Faintly, Rose wondered if her tears were honestly because she was laughing so hard, or if she was laughing so hard to disguise her tears.

"I'm going to sleep," Annie muttered, sliding off the side of the bed and going across the room.

"You know we're just joshing you, right?" Libby called after her.

"Yeah," Annie answered, drawing her curtains around her.

"I suppose we should all be going to bed," Tony said, still grinning as she wiped her tears away from her cheeks. "It's getting late."

Rose took out her wand and waved it over the mess they'd made. All of it disappeared. Libby squeezed Rose, crushing some of her bones.

"What would we do without our little charm prodigy?" Libby asked.

"We'd have to actually clean," Tony said with a shudder.

Rose crawled into her bed and drew her curtains around her, falling back on her pillows. Half-asleep, she could hear someone turn restlessly in their bed. Eventually, they got up and left. Someone else shortly followed. There was little doubt in Rose's mind it was Tony and Libby.

3

"It's time," James said at breakfast, breaking out a notebook.

"Time for what?" Fred asked, piling bacon on his plate.

"It's time for the first prank of the year."

"Oh, Merlin," Rose muttered, shaking her head.

"Who's our target?" Fred asked.

"Slytherin quidditch team," James said with a smirk.

"What did you have in mind?" Rose asked, wondering if his high expectations were possible.

"Still have those color pellets?"

"Used 'em all," Fred said, his mouth stuffed with bacon.

"Oh, come on! How can you already be out of them? You had hundreds in your room!"

"And when my mum got wind of what we were doing with them, she exploded them all in the back room. She ruined a whole batch of skiving snackboxes. I've never seen my dad more angry than he was when he went back there and found his stores were ruined. Made me work overtime to replace them." Fred shook his head and shoved eggs in his mouth.

"So…what are our other options?" Rose asked, twirling a piece of toast in her fingers, not really wanting to eat it.

"Uh…" James ducked as an owl flew over his head. "We could…I don't know."

"What about doing a spell that makes their broomsticks red?" Rose asked, putting the toast down.

"No," Fred said. "It's not very good for the first big prank of the year. We already initiated the first-years. We need something that matches the biting bowl, at least."

"You're looking for physical harm?" Rose asked, stirring around a bowl of porridge.

"No…more like…physical comedy."

"What if we mess with their robes?" Fred asked. "Charm them so that in the middle of the match they turn into dresses or something?"

"No, what we'd need to do was get dresses and charm them to look like their robes, and somehow switch them," Rose said. "It'd be too obvious if we charmed their robes to look like dresses, because we'd have to do it in the middle of the match, and everyone would notice us taking our wands out. It's not something we can do discretely, yet."

"How do we switch them?" Fred asked, grabbing Rose's piece of toast.

"Uh…you have the invisibility cloak, right?" Rose asked. "Just go into the equipment shed and switch them out the night before. We'll charm them so that after…oh…a half hour of wear, they turn into dresses. That'll throw them off for sure."

"We need to do it to the Gryffindors, too," Fred said. "Avert attention."

"Can we get 'em ready for the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw game?" James asked.

"No. We need to find the dresses, and we need to charm them right, and make sure they work. We're going to need the few weeks until the Slytherin- Gryffindor game," Rose said.

"Where are we going to get fourteen dresses of varying sizes?" Fred asked.

Rose glanced up and down the table, pondering the question. Her eyes fell on Lorcan, Lysander, and Molly, the three of them dressed in pink, froofy dresses. She grinned to herself and nodded in their direction. Fred and James followed her motion. They returned her grin. Dresses found.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.

3

"Oh my god," Annie said, gripping Rose's arms in a death grip.

"What?" Rose asked, trying to shake free unsuccessfully.

"Merlin!" Diane squealed, grabbing Rose's other arm.

"What?" Rose asked again, this time a bit louder.

"Is that?" Diane started.

"Frickin hell, he's coming closer," Annie said, pulling Rose.

"Who are you talking about?" Rose demanded, shaking her friends free from her limbs.

"Chris," Annie whispered harshly.

Rose looked up. Sure enough, the tall Ravenclaw was making his way over to where the three of them waited to enter the quidditch pitch, a red sweatshirt marking him as both a Harpies' fan and a Gryffindor supporter.

"Hello Rose," he said, standing next to her.

Annie and Diane started giggling. Rose hit them.

"Hey," Rose said, biting back her own giggles. She couldn't get rid of a giddy grin, though.

"I was wondering if you wanted to sit with me for the game," he said, running his hands through his hair. "You usually sit with James and Fred, right?"

"Yeah, I'd love to sit with you," Rose said, a bit quicker than she intended.

Annie and Diane burst out in giggles. Rose reached behind her and hit them again.

"Awesome," Chris said, a grin spreading across his strong face.

He held out his hand. Rose felt her heart jump in her throat. Tentatively, she reached out and took it, his calluses tickling her soft skin. Her stomach flipped. He led her over to where the Ravenclaw quidditch team lingered, waiting to be let into the stands. Half of them wore red, the other half green. She stood by his side, adoring the way Chris introduced her to the team.

Greg caught her eye, his jaw set and eyes narrowed. Her happiness faltered for a second; why was he so angry with her? She pushed it away. He was just being obstinate, holding some sort of grudge against Chris. She looked away from Greg and turned her attention back to Chris, talking about how badly Gryffindor was going to absolutely crush Slytherin with Helen -- one of his chasers.

"Come on," he said gently, putting his hand on Rose's back. "They're letting us in. We should get some decent seats by the Slytherin goal. I have a feeling there's going to be some decent chaser action on the part of Gryffindor." He directed her to the far side of the pitch. "So what's your favorite quidditch team?"

Gryffindor and Slytherin entered the field, the animosity between them obvious even from a hundred feet up.

"Cannons," Rose answered, watching Fred begin by sending a bludger at a Slytherin chaser.

"Cannons? Are you kidding me?"

"They have a lot of potential."

"They have had a lot of potential for awhile now, and nothing's been done with it."

"In due time," Rose assured him, gasping slightly as a bludger nearly went into the stands before a Slytherin beater sent it at a Gryffindor chaser. James was too quick for him, sending the bludger to Fred. Fred sent it to the Slytherin keeper, who proceeded to fall off his broom.

"I take it you like the Harpies?" Rose asked, standing up to get a better look at the fallen keeper. Madame Hooch blew her whistle, calling for a time-out while she checked out the fallen keeper.

"I thought you would, actually," Chris admitted a bit sheepishly. "Can't stand Swod."

"Me neither; so who do you like?"

"Tornadoes, but I know I don't follow them as closely as I ought to."

Rose glanced briefly at her watch. It had been twenty minutes since the game started. Soon, the robes would change.

"Getting bored?" Chris asked, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

"Not at all," Rose replied. "It's just that I have a feeling that in about five or ten minutes, things are going to get a bit more interesting."

"Really? What'd Fred and James do?" he asked.

Rose glanced at him, offering a sly grin.

"I'm not sure I like that look," he said, chuckling uncomfortably.

"It's nothing bad," Rose said, looking out over the pitch.

"Are you sure?" he pressed.

She looked at him, full out grinning, now. He smiled back, his eyes warm. He looked back to the pitch first and gasped, a look of horror on his face. Rose followed his glance and saw James on a broom, his quidditch robes turned into a bright pink dress. He flew around in circles, his skirt flying out behind him.

Rose saw something she never wanted to see again.

"Merlin," she said, turning her head away from the pitch. Madame Hooch blew her whistle, putting a stop to the game. All the players came down, every one of them furious -- including James and Fred.

"Wow," Chris said, blinking blankly. "That was…odd…"

"Who knew James wears Henry the Hippogriff underwear?" Greg mused behind them.

3

Rose bit her tongue and sat down next to James in front of the lake, trying to not to laugh at the sight of him. The knowledge that he wore Henry the Hippogriff underwear was a bit too much for her.

"How could we do that?" James demanded. "How could we forget that the pants were included in the robes?"

"Dunno," Rose said.

"Forgot," Fred muttered.

"Hey, James," Greg said, sitting down next to Fred. "I have to say -- nice underwear. It takes a real man to wear Henry the Hippogriff."

"Hey! I just wear them when I play, ok?" James said defensively. "They're comfortable and don't ride up my ass."

"Sure," Rose said sarcastically, grinning slightly.

James pushed her down and jumped on top of her, pinning her down.

"You, Rose, need to learn your place," he snarled.

Rose dared to laugh at him. His grip tightened on her arms.

"Come on, Jim," she said, still lightly. "The prank was your idea."

"Fine," he said stiffly, rolling off her.

"James, you want to go get something to eat?" Fred asked.

"Yeah," James agreed, standing up. The pair of them walked back to the castle, leaving Greg and Rose alone.

They sat in silence for a few moments, watching some first years throw rocks into the lake. Rose grinned as the giant squid surfaced, scaring the eleven year olds out of their minds. They all scampered up the hill to the castle.

"Rose," Greg said finally. "You have to stay away from Chris."

"Why are you so against that guy?" Rose demanded, her anger immediately ignited.

"He's a jerk!"

"No he isn't. I just spent a whole hour sitting there talking with him, and he isn't nearly as bad as you make him out to be. He's considerate, knowledgeable, and even has a sense of humor."

"You've only seen one part of him, Rose."

"I think you're just jealous, Greg," Rose said.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, his face red.

"You know what I'm talking about. You're just jealous that he's the one getting attention from scouts, and the attention from girls, and that he's just better at everything than you."

"That's not it at all! He doesn't know how to treat people. You don't know him at all."

"Evidently," she said sarcastically.

"I'm just trying to…"

"You're terrible, you know that? You're absolutely terrible!"

"Hey!"

"Look, if I want your opinion, I'll ask for it."

"I'm giving it anyway! Stay away from Chris!"

"You have just as much taste in quidditch as you do in people!" Rose stood up, fury burning a hole in her stomach. Greg matched her body language.

"Well, you know I must say, I have _much_ better taste in quidditch than _you_ so _I_ must also have better taste in people!"

"Whatever, Greg," Rose said, turning towards the castle.

"Rose!"

She ignored him. Merlin, he was being ridiculous. Chris was _not_ how he was making him out to be. He wasn't cruel. He wasn't mean. He wasn't demanding. He wasn't a jerk. He had interesting things to say, he had a mind, he was intriguing. Rose made up her own mind about things, and she liked Chris. Nothing would change that.

3

**AN:** Clarification: Tony and Libby are just friends. That's it. I was going for a close friendship. If you've ever been to my schools, then you know the sarcastic remark about a best friend cheating on you is a teasing gesture meant to make people laugh. That was the intention. And if you know your friend is distressed (ie, Tony leaving in the middle of the night) then you're going to go see what's wrong (ie, Libby following after her). Thanks for the reviews, guys. =P


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own the venerable Property of Harry Potter.

3

Rose bowed her head to her book, rereading her tome on non-verbal spells. She still hadn't gotten it down completely, and she was wondering if she was missing something. In fact, she was positive she was missing something.

Two weights settled on either side of her on the couch. She glanced up, finding Annie on her left and Diane on her right -- the gossip queens of Gryffindor. Rose shook her head and finished the page.

"We just talked about quidditch," Rose said, answering the unasked question. She could feel them sag with disappointment.

"Keep us posted, eh?" Annie said.

"Yeah, please do," Diane said.

"Alright, guys," Rose said, turning her attention back to the page.

A chortle of laughter distracted Rose again as Libby and Tony entered the common room, the pair of them laughing hysterically.

"What happened?" Annie asked, standing up to drag them over to the couch.

"I replaced Fred's wand with one from Wheezes," Tony said, struggling against her mirth. "And he went to use it in transfiguration!"

"You should have _seen_ the look on his face!" Libby shouted. "I thought he was going to die!"

"James started howling, of course."

"And then Professor Ryder got _so_ angry with him, she kicked him out and gave him _detention_!"

Rose chuckled and shook her head. If Tony was trying to get Fred's attention, she wasn't sure this would work. Although Tony and Libby are considered the rival pranksters of James and Fred, Fred's first reaction will be Jim, then Greg, then Rose, then Frank, _then_ maybe Tony and Libby. Maybe. They're going to have to work hard to get to the top of his list. But, knowing the absolute determination of the two fifth-years, Rose was confident they would do it.

3

Fred burst into the girl's dormitory, his face flushed after climbing up the girls' dormitory stairs, probably pulling himself up the railing when it turned into a slide.

"Rose!" he screamed, storming up to the foot of his cousin's bed. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, changing my wand like that? You made me look like a bloody fool!"

"How did you get up here?" Libby asked, quickly pulling a bathrobe over her naked form; she was just getting ready to pull on her pajamas.

"I didn't do it," Rose said simply, focusing on the words of her book. She really wanted to get through this before the weekend. The last thing she wanted was non-verbal spells to hang over her head during the first Hogsmeade weekend.

"Yes you did! James didn't do it, Frank didn't do it, and Greg didn't do it! That leaves you, Rosie!"

"It wasn't me!" she cried, beginning to get annoyed; was he really that thick?

"Then who was it?"

Rose glanced behind him at Tony, who was just staring at him, and smirked.

"I don't know if I can tell you," Rose said slyly, turning away from him.

"Tell me!"

"No."

He jumped on the edge of the bed, bouncing her slightly.

"You tell me right now, or I'm going to make your life miserable!"

"Like you don't do that already, dear Freddy."

He grabbed her book and tossed it unceremoniously on the floor.

"There's no need to be jealous just because _I_ can read!" Rose said, struggling not to get too angry with him; it wasn't his fault Tony was trying to get his attention.

"Who has my _wand_?" he screamed, inches from her face.

"Get a breath mint, and I can't tell you. You have to figure it out on your own."

He let out a frustrated cry.

"But I'll give you a hint."

Both his and Tony's eyes widened simultaneously – Tony's out of fear, Fred's out of eagerness.

"_If_ you do something for me."

"What do you want?"

"You need to scrub my cauldron."

He stared at her, his teeth clenched and his face bright red.

"Fine," he said through his gritted teeth.

"_She_ is in this room."

"Libby," he growled, jumping off of Rose's bed and cornering the fifth-year. Libby just started laughing at him.

"Oh, Merlin," Annie sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. "You're hopeless, Freddy. It was Tony."

"What?" Fred asked, turning towards the fourth-year. Slowly, he spun around and saw Tony standing in front of her bed, a sliver of wood in her hand. His face paled immediately.

"Do you want your wand back?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Well, then, I suppose you'll get it back at Hogsmeade this weekend."

Tony grinned with a flourish of the wand and ducked out of the dormitory.

"Hey! Get back here! I need that!" Fred said, chasing after her.

Rose shook her head, amused at the pair of screeches as the stairs turned into a slide.

3

Rose sat down between Diane and Annie in the Leaky Cauldron, Libby on the other side of Diane, all four of them watching Tony and Fred and snog in the corner, each of them grinning uncontrollably.

"You know," Libby said, swirling her butterbeer in her cup. "I honestly thought Fred was too uptight for her."

"He is," Rose replied. "That's why she's so perfect for him."

Diane giggled and tipped her butterbeer back.

"The way you were acting, you'd think you were a house elf," Annie muttered.

Diane continued to giggle. Rose watched as Annie rolled her eyes for the first time; usually Annie was the one giggling her fanny off.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" Libby asked and downed the rest of her butterbeer.

"I want to snog someone," Annie said wistfully, her eyes again falling on Tony.

Libby followed the younger girl's glance without question and nodded understandingly. Tony was the first one of the five of them to snog someone like that. Libby had had her fair share of flings, but none of them were as open or as passionate as the moment Tony and Fred were sharing. Not by a long shot.

Diane's giggling stopped and she nodded solemnly. Without a word, she slammed her butterbeer on the table, stood up, and walked over to a group of fifth-year Hufflepuffs. She sat down next to one of the boys – a kid named Parker – and wrapped her arm seductively around his waist, whispering in his ear. His face went red and turned to her, nodding. Diane leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Rose shook her head as he wrapped his arms around her and they started snogging, competing with Tony and Fred who were now laying down on one of the benches.

"Woah," Libby said, shaking her head. "That _cannot_ be right. Someone's gotta stop them."

On cue, Professor Wolfe came in, took one look at the Gryffindors and Hufflepuff and howled in anger.

"Morandi! Get off Weasley this instant! Fifty points from Gryffindor! What kind of a disgrace is this? You're betraying Gryffindor _and_ Hogwarts! You little swine! Detention for a week!" he shouted.

Tony slipped off of Fred, handing him his wand under the table. He looked dumbstruck, shocked and infatuated, as he held his wand in a limp hand.

"Farrel! Toller! Twenty-five points from Gryffindor! Twenty-five points from Hufflepuff! All four of you, back to the castle, now!"

Wolfe pointed out the door with a shaking hand, his fury relayed in that one motion. Diane slowly slipped from Parker's embrace and walked from the establishment, her hips swinging. Fred and Tony followed, the two of them holding hands. Parker just stared at Wolfe until the potions master threatened to hang him by his fingernails.

"On second thought," Annie said softly. "Maybe I _don't_ want that."

"No," Libby said. "You really, really, really do."

Rose shook her head, silently disagreeing. She wouldn't want a detention for anything. What would her mum say? It was just the excuse she needed to get on her case. No, it wasn't worth it. Although…if it was Chris…Rose's eyes turned to where the Ravenclaw quidditch team sat playing exploding snap. Greg's cheeks were covered in ashes, a dejected look on his face. Chris, though, was grinning slightly, a glint in his eye. He had a good hand, Rose could tell, and when he put his cards down, the last of Greg's hand exploded. They all laughed as Greg tried to put out the burning sensation as his eyebrows glowed red.

Chris's laugh was so strong and rich. Rose grinned at the sound which filled her body, resonating within her soul. She wouldn't mind getting in trouble with him, she supposed. It would be worth it – his soft lips, strong hands, solid body.

"Look, even Rose is thinking about it," Libby said, hitting the younger girl with a cloth napkin.

Rose glared at her, jarred out of her reverie.

"Am not," Rose said, almost angry.

"Oh, come on," Annie jested, nudging her with an elbow. "It was so obvious. I wouldn't be surprised if Chris came over right now and started snogging the living daylights out of you."

"Yeah…sure," Rose said sarcastically; why would he want someone like her? She was so…nondescript. He could have any girl the entire school. Undoubtedly, he would go for one of the Hufflepuffs or even one of his own Ravenclaws. She was positive that she was on the bottom of his list. But…he did seem to enjoy her company…shaking away the notion, Rose finished her butterbeer.

"Let's go the Shreiking Shack," Libby said. "I'll be willing to bet that's where Wolfe is going next, being the snog-police he is."


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Property of Harry Potter.

3

Rose sat down across from Jim, grabbing the last piece of bread off the table. She wasn't particularly hungry, but she knew her cousins would start attacking her if she didn't eat anything. They always watched her like a hawk – it got annoying after awhile. Tony slid next to Fred, her fingers lacing with his. They glanced at each other and grinned. Rose wanted to vomit.

"So," James said, pointedly looking away from Fred. "I need to write to mum asking to send me my sweaters. I seem to have forgotten them."

"Yeah?" Rose asked, not quite interested in this conversation.

"Yeah; I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, it's almost November, so…I don't know. I'm surprised I managed to last this long."

"I thought I saw you wearing a sweater the other day."

"Well…that was Fred's."

Tony whispered something in Fred's ear less than discretely. His eyes widened and his mouth twitched into a grin. He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She smiled and took him full-on. She glanced down the table and saw Libby flirting with a sixth-year, Diane whispering things to a fellow fourth-year, and Annie smiling at some kid talking about his plans for the future. Was she really the only one not engaged (or trying to become engaged) with some guy?

An unfamiliar feeling tugged at her stomach. What was it? Jealousy? Longing? A sense of shame washed over her. How could she feel _shame_, of all things? She was Rose Lee Weasley. She didn't need a _boy_ to make her worth something. Her anger did not dull the sense of yearning for that completeness she saw in Tony and Fred. She would give anything to have a boy smile at her like that, no matter how pathetic that sounded. Groaning at them, she turned to her piece of bread.

3

"We need to do something," James said, sliding down the back of the couch in Gryffindor common room.

"What?" Rose asked, not bothering to look up from her book. She had been waiting for this, the moment when James would suggest the annual Christmas prank. Everyone had been in the spirit lately, particularly because of the freshly fallen snow on the ground.

"Where's Fred?" he asked.

"Dunno."

"Where has he_ been_?" Frank demanded, plopping down on the other side of Rose.

"Dunno," Rose lied; she knew that Fred and Tony had been sneaking off to the third-floor broom closet – the Gryffindor make-out spot. Because they were sixth years, they had precedence over the younger years, so more oft than not, they had peace, only interrupted every now and then by some nosy seventh-year.

"What're we going to do without him? We can't pull off a decent prank without Fred," James complained, putting a pillow behind his head.

"We can't pull _anything_ off without Fred," Frank groaned. "My marks have been slipping this past month."

"We're not getting a prank in before Christmas, are we?" James asked.

"Nope," Rose answered, turning a page in her book.

The two Gryffindor sixth-years groaned and shifted around. Rose grinned to herself; for the first time, she would actually get peace before Christmas.

3

Rose slipped into the back of her dad's sedan, waiting for her mum and dad to stop bickering about her shirt. Hugo slipped in next to her and buckled his seatbelt.

"You got them pretty heated up," Hugo said, grinning. "I don't think I've ever seen them like that."

"Budge up, Rosie," James said, opening Rose's door. Rose slid over, making room for James.

"Why aren't you going with Fred and Roxy?" Rose asked, nudging Hugo to make some more room.

"You're leaving sooner," James replied simply. "Dear old Fred is currently occupied with Tony. What ever gave you the idea that it would be _good_ for him to be occupied in a girl? He's on his own little planet. He isn't even going to have time to come with me to Diagon Alley! You ruined everything, you know."

"Oh, please, Jim," Rose scorned. "You know I am not responsible for Fred's _raging_ hormones."

"You're the one that encouraged Tony."

"Tony has a mind of her own. We both know that."

"We both also know that before this year, she hasn't so much as shown a passing interest in Fred. Why is she all of a sudden groping him?"

"She's had a crush on him for a while, now, actually. It was only a matter of time before she made a move."

"Are you serious? Man, I'm more oblivious than I thought." James scratched his head. "Are you sure? She used to always taunt him and stuff."

"She was trying to get his attention."

"That's so stupid."

"What do you mean?"

"If she had just talked to him, he would have responded."

"She was nervous, and we both know Fred doesn't usually respond to that kind of thing."

"Trust me, he would have responded to Tony."

"None of us knew that, you know."

"I am _not_ looking forward to hearing how _beautiful_ and _wonderful_ his Antonette is all vacation," James groaned, rubbing his face. "Where are you parents? I thought we were leaving soon."

Rose glanced out the window. Her parents weren't too far away, their faces twisted in anger. She wasn't sure if she had ever seen them this wound up. Guilt solidified in her stomach. Were they still arguing about her? She knew her Australia sweatshirt didn't fit like her dad would want it to. In fact, she wasn't fully sure she liked how it fit; the looks some of the guys gave her on the platform made her a bit uneasy. Who would look at her like that? Honestly, Rose wasn't the prettiest girl at Hogwarts, not by a long shot, and all of this attention she had started to get… she didn't like it. She blamed Vick's clothes. They were probably charmed or something.

Her mum jerked the door to the driver's side seat open and threw herself in the car, angrily slamming the door behind her. Her dad slammed the door to the passenger's side. They both buckled in unison. Her mum revved up the car and started driving in absolute silence. Rose glanced at James. He was staring at them, slack jawed. Rose felt her stomach tighten.

"You can floo to the Burrow when we get home, James," her mum said tersely.

"Or we can just drop him off," her dad said.

"He can floo," her mum snapped, glancing at her dad.

"We pass right by his…"

"No."

"Hermione, you're being unreasonable!"

"I don't want to talk about this right now," her mum said, her voice dripping with venom.

Her dad glanced over her shoulder at the three teenagers in the back seat before resigning himself to silence.

"Do you know what's up?" Hugo mouthed as discretely as possible.

Rose shrugged.

"Definitely something," she replied in the same fashion.

Hugo nodded. The last time their parents bickered like this was when Grandpa Weasley died a few summers ago. They refused to stop no matter what, and it ended with mum collapsing in tears one afternoon at the Burrow. Something was definitely up. They were walking on eggshells this vacation.

3

**AN**: Updating will slow now that I'm back in the abyss of academics. I'm taking some rather challenging courses this semester and also trying to pump out another fic and an original work, so…yeah…I'm gonna be busy with little time to write fanfic (or, more importantly, in this case, format it for upload). Thanks for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Rose sprawled on the couch in the living room, a book propped open on her knees – a muggle novel about unrealistic vampires falling in love with muggle girls. It was so ridiculous. But, at the same time, she couldn't stop reading it. Turning a page, she heard a loud, frustrated cry.

"Hermione!" her dad called through the house. "Hermione, where're my socks?"

"How am I supposed to know, Ronald? Why don't you open your own bloody eyes and _look_?" her mum snapped from the kitchen.

"I _have_ looked, and I can't find them!"

"Ronald!"

Rose groaned and marked her page. She wasn't going to be able to read with this noise.

"Well, do you know where they are?" her dad lumbered down the hallway, passed through the living room, and slid into the kitchen.

"Why would I know where your socks are? You need to start keeping track of your things!"

"I just want to know where they are!"

"You're worse than Hugo!"

"At least _I_ remember to put the toilet seat down!"

"That's irrelevant!"

Everything _had_ to turn into an argument with them. Rose shifted on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on the television – a silly muggle cartoon. Typical. Nothing good was on. She really wished they would just come clean and tell her and Hugo what was _wrong_. It wasn't like it was a big secret. Both of them knew something was off. But no, they had to go about it like nothing was happening, like everything was normal. Which, of course, led to arguments. She hated it when they argued like this. Normally, it didn't bother her; she didn't like it when her dad refused to wash his dishes, either. But when it was incessant, it just disturbed everything.

"NO! I will _not _search through my drawers for _your_ socks! It's your own fault you lost them!"

Rose turned off the television. It wasn't doing her any good, just melting her brain. Grabbing her book, she went out back. She sat down in the soft grass, her back against the lone tree in the middle of the yard. Looking up, she could see Hugo lounging on a branch. She abandoned her book and joined him.

"Do you have any idea what the problem is?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"No. You?"

"I…I think it has to do with mum's parents," he said softly, his eyes wide.

Rose's heart skipped a beat. Her mum never talked about her parents. She and Hugo had never met them. Whenever they were brought up in conversation, her mum gave a strained smile and changed the subject.

"What…what makes you think that?" Rose asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"I found it in the rubbish bin," Hugo said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an envelope.

Rose took it reverently, staring at the muggle post. It was addressed to Hermione Weasley. The return address was to a Jane Granger. Granger…Granger…it sounded familiar.

"Granger?" she asked, knowing he would know.

"Mum's maiden name," Hugo whispered.

Rose's breath caught in her throat.

"Why is this muggle post?"

"Dunno."

Hugo took the envelope back.

"What was in the letter?" Rose pressed, yearning for information.

"Dunno. You know as much as me."

"Why would…she make contact now?" Rose asked, uncertain of what to call her.

"I don't know. Stop asking me questions." Hugo said, getting annoyed. Even if he was a Ravenclaw, he still had the Weasley temper.

"It's probably nothing," Rose said after a few seconds, trying to calm down her brother, his ears bright red. "For all we know, they could have a regular correspondence."

"But _muggle post_? Why would they use _muggle_ post?" Hugo asked, echoing Rose's sentiments.

"I'm going to the Burrow," Rose said, needing the company of Fred and James. She heard something break inside and loud cursing.

"I hate it when they get like this," Hugo muttered.

"It'll only last a few more days," Rose replied with a shrug. "Assuming someone died. Then, it could last longer."

The thought stung worse than she thought it would. Had someone died? Is that what this was all about? No. Her parents would have told them. She slipped from the tree, shaking the thoughts from her head.

"I'm coming," Hugo said, falling next to her.

3

James was laying down on the floor, sprawled out like always. Lily was perched in one of the arm chairs, knitting. Al was reading a book on the couch. Hugo sat on the arm to Lily's chair and just watched her for a few minutes while Rose took occupation in the other armchair.

"Why're you guys here?" Al asked absently, turning a page in his book.

"Arguing," Hugo muttered.

Al just nodded; it was no secret their parents fought regularly.

"What about?" James asked, grabbing a quaffle off the floor.

"Socks," Rose muttered.

Lily glanced up from her knitting, but other than that, no one said a word.

"You guys want to play quidditch?" James asked, beginning to toss the quaffle up and down.

Before anyone gave an answer, Lily and Al were outside, arguing over who got to use their mum's old Firebolt – the best one they owned that they could use. Hugo was out there soon after, grabbing hold of Uncle Harry's old Firebolt – the second-best.

"So do you know what's up with your parents?" James asked, sitting up.

"No," Rose sighed. She wasn't sure if she wanted to talk to James about this. Sure, he tended to be able to listen to her – much more than Hugo and some of the other girls – but he was still James, the older cousin.

"It'll probably blow over in a few days," James said, laying back out on the floor.

"Yeah," Rose said halfheartedly. He really didn't know. When his parents argued, sure there were harsh words, but they didn't get nearly as into it as Rose's parents; they could carry on for days about socks.

"I just wish they'd come out and just _say_ what's bothering them. It annoys the shit out of me when they do this," Rose continued. "They act like they're really angry at each other, when they're just angry at the world…I think."

Doubt. She gritted her teeth against the doubt. She hated the doubt just as much as she hated the arguing. Involuntarily, she shuddered.

"Are you afraid?" James ventured.

Rose glared at him; how did he think it was his place to ask such a personal question? Sure, they had a habit of spending a bit too much time together, but that didn't give him the right to pry.

"Sorry," he muttered, pulling himself off the floor. "So do you want to play?"

"I…not really. I think I'll just watch."

She followed James out to the yard and settled under her favorite tree at the Burrow – a gorgeous willow – and watched the four of them, her jacket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She was just glad it hadn't snowed yet.

"Hey, guys!" Teddy shouted, waving at everyone in the air.

They all landed and greeted him. Rose didn't get up; she could see Vicky in the window, Flora in her arms. That was the last person she wanted to talk to. And also the one she wanted to talk to the most. Victoire always eased her fear and settled her doubts. She gritted her teeth, resolving herself to quell her own fear and abolish her own doubts. She knew it was impossible.

Staring at them all, the guys all crowding around Teddy, thrusting a broom in his hands, Lily inside cooing over the baby, a terrible sense of loneliness swelled inside of Rose. It was ridiculous, it was unfounded, it was pointless and fruitless and absolutely childish. But she couldn't shake it. She couldn't bring herself to stand up and go inside to Vick, the fallen saint. She couldn't bear to join the guys, flying twenty feet above her head. She was stuck in the middle. Not there, but certainly not here.

A part of her wished she had stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas. But what would that have solved? It's just more of the same. She's not like the other girls – obsessed with make-up and clothes – but definitely not like the guys – caught up in sports and smelling gross things. She was stuck in the middle. Not one of the girls, but not one of the guys.

She didn't belong anywhere, and she hated it.

3

Rose was the first one to floo out Christmas morning, a sack of gifts in her hands.

"Rosie!" Grandma Weasley cried, wrapping her arms tightly around her. "It's so good to see you!"

"Hey, Grandma," Rose said, trying to hug her back with a sack full of gifts. Teddy took them from her and put them under the tree.

Hugo stepped out of the fireplace, his face pale.

"They're going to be a few minutes," Hugo muttered, handing Aunt Ginny a couple of their dad's pies.

Grandma Weasley quickly enveloped him in one of her signature hugs. He returned it, burying his face in her shoulder. She whispered some things to him.

"Rose," Aunt Ginny said, distracting her from her brother. "Why don't you go outside? I hear they're all trying to make a snowman army."

"I…I didn't bring anything for the snow…"

"Don't worry about it; I'll dry you off when you come back in."

"No, really, it'd be better if I don't. I'll just…be in the sitting room," Rose said, slipping by her aunt and taking a seat by the massively over-decorated tree.

She pulled a book off of the shelf and started reading about Welsh dragons. She heard her mum and dad enter the Burrow, neither of them saying much. There were a few low words exchanged. Rose had no doubt it had to do with her and Hugo; why else would the otherwise loud Weasleys be so quiet?

"Hey," Vick said, sitting on the sofa near her, Flora fussing in her arms.

"Hey," Rose replied tartly, focusing more intently on the picture in front of her.

"How're you doing?"

"Fine."

"We haven't talked in awhile."

"I know."

Rose turned a page, blocking out the sound of angry words in the kitchen.

"Do you want to talk about anything?"

Subduing the urge to speak, she continued reading.

"Rose…"

"I don't want to talk."

"Your mum's going through a hard time."

"I noticed. Care to tell me what it is?"

"It's…not my place."

Rose ground her teeth, fighting back against her anger. Vicky knew and she wasn't going to tell. It's not her place. Sure, whatever. Evidently it wasn't her mum's place, either.

"We are _not _going!" she heard her mum scream.

Rose heard her dad mumble a response.

"No!"

Another mumble.

"Ronald!" her voice was strained.

Another mumble. Her mum stared sobbing. Rose sighed, partially in relief. At least it was out, now, and they could _talk_ about it. Hopefully no more throwing things.

"That's good?" Vick asked, a look of surprise on her face.

Rose shrugged. It didn't matter. Most of the adults shifted into the sitting room, all of them glancing at Rose with a sympathetic look. Rose ignored them, instead turning back to her book. Only Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny, and her parents remained in the kitchen.

"You know, I really doubt the Cannons will make it far," Uncle Charlie said, scratching his head.

"Blasphemer," Rose muttered.

"No, really, Rose," Charlie continued. "The Cannons have no chance."

"Yes they do!" Rose started spouting statistics, completely forgetting about the book.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Christmas was the same as usual, really. James managed to pull a nasty prank on Fred – turning his clothes into snow really wasn't a good idea with his mum right behind him. Fred managed to pull a nasty prank on James – turning his potatoes into snow was quite harmless and funny. Lily and Molly ended up in a fight about some movie. Lou ended up in a skirt. Hugo and Al ended up in an argument over some book. Dom got yelled at by Grandma Weasley for dying blue highlights into his hair – he's in a band now, playing the violin. Rose almost laughed when she heard that. Flora's hair changed color for the first time, going from its light color to a vibrant purple and it stayed there. Teddy was floored. Vicky wouldn't let the overexcited father near the girl until he calmed down. No one questioned her judgment. Rose's presents, as usual, ended up on her desk chair while she reclined on her bed.

The stars swirled overhead, her eyes tracing them. Hugo's music came through the wall – the premier album from Dom's band, the Selkies. Rose was honestly surprised how well the violin fit into their songs – it gave it a distinctively haunted sound, something she really did enjoy.

"Rose, Hugo," her dad barked down the hall. "Come to the sitting room."

Reluctantly, Rose pulled herself from her bed. She had been expecting this. She had just hoped they'd wait until tomorrow. Hugo joined her halfway down the hall and they sat next to each other on the couch. Their mum was nervously perched in the chair, and their dad stood by the entrance to the kitchen.

"Your grandfather is dieing," their dad said. "You're going to see him tomorrow."

Rose looked at him, slightly confused.

"But…Grandpa…"

"Your other grandfather," her mum said quickly, cutting off Rose's thought.

"Grandpa Granger?" Hugo asked. Their mum winced slightly and nodded.

"But we've never…" Rose began.

"He…he wants to meet you before he dies," their dad said. "It's his right."

"He's…he's dieing?" Rose asked, not quite sure how to feel. Should she be upset, sad, angry, what? It was easy when Grandpa Weasley died – sad. She had known him, spent time alone with him. But Grandpa Granger, as Hugo dubbed him? She didn't even know his first name.

"From what?" Hugo asked, always wanting the facts.

"Lung cancer."

"Lung cancer?" Rose demanded. "Who _dies_ from cancer?"

"Aren't there potions he can take for that?" Hugo added. "Bloody hell, I could probably brew one right now!"

"Guys," their dad said gently. "Whatever gave you the idea your mum was from a wizarding family? She's muggle born."

Rose felt like a cold wave swept over her. Muggle born? Why hadn't anyone told them? What else didn't she know? That they aunts and uncles they didn't know about?

"It's going to be odd," her mum said, her voice almost void of emotion. "You…you might meet some cousins, but I'm not sure. They'd be…they'd be a lot younger than you."

"You have a sibling?" Hugo asked scathingly.

"Two."

Rose struggled to swallow.

"Why didn't we ever meet them?" Hugo demanded angrily. "Why didn't you ever tell us? That doesn't make any sense!"

"When I was a little older than you, we had a falling out," their mum explained, her words quick off her mouth.

"What…" Hugo started.

"That's all I want to say about it," her mum said sharply.

"Mr. Granger is going to be hooked up to some machines," their dad said and their mum's face clouded with an emotion Rose couldn't place. "It isn't going to be pretty or clean. Mrs. Granger will probably be there. She might cry."

"What do we call them?" Rose asked suddenly.

"Grandpa and Grandma, I suppose," her dad answered, her mum ostensibly incapable of talking.

Rose pressed her lips together; it sounded odd even in her head. She had never met these people; how can they earn the title of grandma and grandpa?

"So…we're going to a muggle hospital?" Hugo asked, an edge of eagerness in his tone. Rose smacked him. Hugo just shrugged away.

"No," their dad said. "We're going to your….we're going to their house."

"This is going to be awkward," Rose said, crossing her arms and leaning back against the couch.

"Yes, yes it is," her mum agreed softly.

3

"This is _really_ awkward," Hugo said, standing in front of a house with an almost identical garden as theirs. Rose glanced at the windows, taking it all in. The house really did look a lot like theirs, a bit more refined, but still very similar. She pressed her lips together and looked at her mum, who was fussing with her dad's shirt.

"Rose, pull down your skirt," her mum said.

"It is pulled down," Rose insisted. She was constantly tugging on the thing, trying to get it to go lower, but it refused with an obstinacy to match her dad's.

"Well, you look like a hussy," her mum said.

"You're the one that told me to wear it!"

"Rose," her dad growled.

Pursing her lips, she turned to the blue door. Her mum stepped by her and knocked. Nervously, Rose played with the sleeve of her jacket, wondering what their response would be. Would they love them? Hate them? Resent them? What?

Before too long, the door opened and a tired looking young woman stood there, her belly distended with pregnancy. Rose's mum and her stared at each other, neither of them speaking.

"Jean," their mum said, offering a strained smile.

"Hermione," she said with an identical smile. They looked like they could be twins if Jean was a couple decades older.

"Come in," she said, stepping aside to allow them entrance. Rose followed behind Hugo, annoyed with how tall he was getting; the kid was as tall as she was, and practically two years younger. They stood in the foyer for a few minutes in an awkward silence.

"How is he?" their mum whispered.

"He seems to be strong today," Jean sighed. "I think it's because he knows you are coming."

Their mum nodded.

"Jay, who is that?" a weak feminine voice said. A woman came out of the kitchen and stopped when she saw the Weasleys in her foyer. Rose's mum looked at her and an immediate look of anguish passed across both of their faces.

"Mum," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.

Rose glanced up at her dad, almost questioning. Her dad was staring at her mum, a look of solid determination on his face.

"Hermione," the old lady said, stepping forward. She wrapped her daughter in her arms, each of them holding the other tightly.

"You must be Ronald," she said, turning to Hugo. "But you like Hugo, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hugo replied. A look of disappointment flashed across her face before she wrapped him in her arms.

"And you are?" she turned to Rose and disappoint throbbed through her body.

"Rose," she answered shortly.

"Oh," the old woman said, surprised. She glanced at Ron. "From a previous relationship?"

Rose stared at her, abashed by her audacity. Who did she think she was? First, to question the integrity of her dad, and second to question the legitimacy of her daughter's family. To question Rose's legitimacy as a Weasley. Hatred immediately cloaked itself around Rose's heart. This woman was a nuisance.

"She's our daughter," her dad said, his voice solid.

"Hermione, I didn't know you were with anyone other than Ron."

"I'm adopted," Rose said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear." A look of pity passed across her face and she patted Rose's shoulder.

Anger surged through Rose. Determined, she fought it back. What? Was she second-rate just because she wasn't of her own _blood_? Her blood was better. Rose knew for a fact that her blood was better. Both of her biological parents – _both of them_ – were magical, not some distant relative that passed the genes on to her. Her _parents_. She was just as good as Hugo and all her other cousins.

"You two are saints for taking her in," the old lady continued.

Rose clenched her teeth so hard she wondered if one of them would fall out.

"Tsk, don't clench your teeth, dear, you'll ruin them," she said, patting Rose on the cheek. Rose's hand twitched toward her pocket, where she held her wand just in case. Her father put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her near him.

"Don't even think about it," he said, his fingers digging into her shoulder.

"That's right. Spare the rod, spoil the child!" The old woman went back into the kitchen.

"I need to get out of here," Rose muttered.

"You _will_ see your grandfather," her dad said harshly.

"He's upstairs, and sorry about that," Jean said, scratching her head. "She's been…stressed…lately…"

Rose shrugged and followed Hugo to the room where her grandfather was. The four of them entered the room and stood at the foot of the queen sized bed. The frail man was lying down, tubes coming out of his nose and wrists. He wheezed when he breathed.

"Minnie?" he asked, his voice but a wisp.

"Daddy," their mum said, standing next to him and taking his hand.

"I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too." Rose saw the tears rising in her eyes. "There's some people here I want you to meet. This is Hugo." She motioned for Hugo to come forward. He did, his large hands stuck in his pocket.

"Don't slouch, son," he said.

Hugo immediately straightened his shoulders; Rose stared at him, shocked – he never did that for her mum or dad or even Grandma Weasley. The old man chuckled, ending in a coughing fit. Rose's mum offered him a cup of water. He took a few sips and then leaned back against the pillows.

"Never slouch," he said. "Makes you look weak. You don't want to be weak, do you?"

"No sir."

"That's a good answer." He reached out and grabbed Hugo's arm. "You be good for mum and dad, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"You get good marks?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can't say I'd expect any less from my daughter's son. Although from what I hear your dad liked to goof off in school."

Rose glanced at her dad, mildly surprised. She knew he now worked at the joke shop, but she supposed he had always been serious and diligent. He had been a prefect, hadn't he?

"And this is Rose," her mum said, waiving to Rose. Rose stepped forward, replacing Hugo by their grandfather's bedside.

He stared at her intently, his eyes narrowed.

"You look confused," he said at last. Rose looked at him, surprised that he would say something like that. "Your mum looked like that for years – the same expression in her eyes." Rose felt her mum stiffen next to her.

"Dad…"

"I...I don't think I've seen her without it until now."

Rose turned her head and looked at her mum, her eyes glistening with tears.

"You'll find your place soon enough, Rosie."

As much as she hated the old woman, she loved her grandpa.

"Don't let anyone take advantage of you, either. You're beautiful."

Staring at him then, knowing that this was her grandpa, the man she had never known, and that he was dieing…

"He doesn't have to die…" Rose muttered. "You don't have to die."

"Rose," her mum said warily.

"All it takes is a potion!" Rose shouted. "A bloody potion that even Hugo could brew!"

"Rose…"

"Why can't we brew it? Why can't we give it to him!"

"Rose," her dad tried, putting a hand on her shoulder. Rose twitched out of it.

"It's a bloody potion! What's so difficult about that?"

"He's a muggle, Rose, with a muggle wife and a muggle family," her mum said, her voice strained.

"But _you're_ not a muggle!" Rose shouted, pointing a finger at her mum. "You can _save_ him and all you're doing is mumbling about he's a fucking muggle!"

"Watch your language," her grandpa said, glaring at Rose. Rose looked at him, her heart squeezing at the sight of him.

"It's not fair," Rose said. "It's not fair that you have to die."

"The world isn't a fair place."

Rose stared at him, not knowing why she felt so…overwhelmed by emotion. It was like Grandpa Weasley all over again, only worse because this was the only memory she had, and it wasn't exactly a good one. There were no Christmases, no birthdays, no Sunday dinners…only now, seeing him sick and dieing, weak and feeble. Tears pricked her eyes, blurring her vision. Her breath hitched in her chest. She would never get to know this man, so clearly wise and strong. She felt the tears start to fall down her cheeks, burning her skin.

"Come here, Rosie," her grandpa said, opening his arm wide for her.

Without thinking about the consequences or why she felt so comfortable with him or anything of that effect, Rose slid onto the bed next to him, burying her face in his shirt, crying.

"You shouldn't have to die."

"It has to happen."

"Why? Why does it have to happen? It _doesn't_ have to happen. It doesn't!"

"It's ok," he whispered, rubbing her back. "It'll be fine."

"How do you know? How do you know it'll be fine? How do you know everything won't slip away?"

"You come from a good family," he said, his arm squeezing her gently. "You were raised by good people, taught good things, and have a sharp head on your shoulders. Anything you do, you'll excel at. Anything you want to do, you will do. You'll make it fine. The people around you will make it fine."

In that second, she thought she was the only person in the world, that her parents weren't there, staring at their daughter cling to her grandfather like a barnacle to a ship, that her brother wasn't awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other, completely dumbstruck by his sister's reaction, that all her problems were non-existent.

"I want to _know_ you," she admitted, her voice muffled. "I want to…I don't even know…I just…I don't know."

"It's alright, Rosie. There's still some time for that."

"No there isn't! I go back to school…and when I come back…it'll be…and then…" she sobbed into his arms. He was patient, gently rubbing her back and muttering words of comfort to her. When she calmed down, he talked some more.

"Can you play chess?" he asked, looking at her questioningly.

"I _can_, but I don't know how _good_ I am," Rose said, drying her eyes on her shirt.

"Why don't you grab the set over there on the desk and we'll play a game."

"But…what about…" She slid off the bed and looked around.

Her parents and brother had left, leaving the door slightly open. She had a brief surge of panic before calming down. Grinning to herself, she took the chess set and placed it on the bed. She sat down on the other side and took the first move.

"You ask me a question," he said, making a move. "I ask you a question."

Rose nodded and moved.

"How old are you?"

"Sixty-five."

He moved.

"How old are you, Rose?"

"Fourteen; I'll be fifteen in February."

"You don't look fourteen. You look more like sixteen. It's no wonder your dad looks at you like he wants to lock you up."

Rose felt herself blushed and moved her rook.

"Where did you grow up?"

"Liverpool. Do you know who your biological parents are?"

"No." She moved again. "Who was your first girlfriend and how old were you?"

"May and eighteen."

"Eighteen?"

"I wasn't quite the lady's man," he chuckled, again ending in a coughing fit. Rose grabbed his water and offered it to him.

"So do you go to Hogwarts?"

"Yeah; I'm in Gryffindor."

"Ah, your mum was in Gryffindor, wasn't she?"

"Yeah."

" And what about Hugo?"

"He's in Ravenclaw."

"Thought so."

"How many kids do you have?"

"Three – your mum, Jean, and Gregory. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Don't worry about that. It's better to wait, anyway."

"What…what happened with mum that she…fell out of your favor?"

"I trust you know about the second war?"

"Mhmm."

"She…she modified your grandmother's and mine memories to make us forget about her. She was heavily involved in the…revolution, I suppose. Something about killing the evil head guy. If they had found us, they would have tortured us, I think, and we would have all been compromised. I understand why she did it, but she didn't even give us a chance to ask about it or anything like that. She crossed a line between doing what's best and manipulating."

"Woah…she was…I didn't think she was _that_ involved…"

"She was."

They made two quick moves.

"What do you think you're going to do with the rest of your life?"

"I…I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. What was…is…was your profession?"

"I was a dentist."

"Oh, really? You like teeth?"

He grinned and made a move.

"What do you do in your spare time?"

"Read…think about quidditch…debate quidditch…watch and read about quidditch…"

"Do you play?"

"Oh no. Don't have enough balance."

He grinned again and shook his head.

"Checkmate," he said.

Rose looked at him, startled, and stared at the board. When she looked back up, he was asleep. Grinning, she took the board and put it back on the dresser.

"Bye, grandpa," she said softly.

"Bye Rosie," he replied.

3

AN: Shameless plug: the story of Hermione and her parents I've told in Ramifications, if you're interested. It's a little one-shot, if my memory serves me, so it's not TOO time consuming =P


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Rose watched her mum disappear as the train rounded the bend on the way to Hogwarts. She wanted nothing more than to go back home, to curl up in her bed, and to sleep. Maybe not even waking up. But just to get those few hours of peace…without thinking about her grandfather…either of them…without going over the talks she had with Grandpa Granger or the few stolen moments she still remembered with Grandpa Weasley.

She wished she had never met him. She wished she had just gone through her life without knowing she had a Grandpa Granger. She wished she never knew he was a dentist, or that he spent four years volunteering in third-world countries pulling teeth, or that he used to live in Austrailia. He had been a _good_ man. Like Grandpa Weasley.

No. This was different than Grandpa Weasley. They _knew_ Grandpa Granger was dying. He wasn't just going to collapse in the middle of the floor and never get up. People were prepared for his death, expecting it. There wouldn't be months of grief hanging around her parents, making everything an argument. The rest of the family would be able to step in and help, if need be. Not everyone would be suffering the same terrible loss. Right?

"Rose?"

She looked away from the passing countryside. Greg stood uncertainly in the doorway, his hands braced on the opening to the compartment.

"What?" she asked, her voice flat.

"Why aren't you with Fred and James?"

Rose snorted. They were the last people she wanted to be around right now. Sure, they could probably lift her spirits if she let them, but she just wasn't in the mood to deal with their stupidity. Greg sat down across from her, watching her carefully.

"So did you have a good Christmas?" he ventured to ask.

"It was fine. Nothing unusual," Rose lied smoothly, not wanting to talk with him. He might be good company, but he wasn't someone she was willing to spill her secrets to, particularly because he seemed to be rather judgmental – he still held quite the grudge against Chris.

"Get anything good?"

"New Cannon's sweatshirt."

"That it?"

"The only thing worth mentioning. You?"

"Harpies's jersey." He stretched out his legs and folded his hands behind his head. Rose turned her attention back out the window.

"Is something wrong?" he asked after a few seconds.

"No."

"You're lying."

Rose stood up, slightly annoyed, and made to leave.

"Where're you going?"

"To another compartment. I think I'm going to find the girls."

Rose slipped down the hallway and found the Gryffindor fourth-years giggling about one thing or another. Rose sat down in an available seat and listened to them expound on the new fashions they got for Christmas. A sad smile played across Rose's face, not quite enjoying the conversation; this wasn't something she could join in on. She didn't belong here.

3

Rose slumped down at the breakfast table and listlessly stirred honey into her tea. Glancing down the Gryffindor table, she realized with a familiar pang that she was the only one up this early. It wasn't even early, really. It was eight. Sure, it was Saturday, but Rose had to catch up on some work before heading down to Hogsmeade with the girls. At least, that's what she thought she was doing. For all she knew, she would get distracted by something in the broom shop and get left behind. It's happened before, and she had full confidence it would happen again.

Keeping her head down, she sipped at her tea, not really interested in eating anything. Someone settled across from her – probably Fred or James. She didn't care which, instead focusing on her tea and the little specks of herbs floating in it. The person across from her shifted.

"So, Rose, are you going to Hogsmeade today?"

Rose looked up, slightly alarmed; that wasn't Fred or Jim. She wasn't disappointed, though. Chris sat in front of her, an amused look on his face, a piece of bacon spinning in his fingers. Her breath caught in her chest. She wasn't expecting him to be there, his warm brown eyes looking at her with a glint of mirth, a piece of bacon clenched in his teeth.

"Yeah," she said, her voice sticking in her throat. Quickly, she sipped some tea.

"You going with anyone?"

"Just some of the girls."

"Oh, well…would you...uh…like to come…would you let me…do you want to come to Hogsmeade with me when you're finished?" he blurted, stumbling over the words.

Rose found herself grinning at his blushed cheeks, his eyes slightly cloudy in embarrassment.

"Sure," she said, trying not to sound too eager, trying to push the balloon of joy swelling within her.

Chris smiled, a relieved look spreading over his face. Rose slowly let the exultation out of her balloon, allowing the pure emotion to surge evenly through her entire body. She ruthlessly downed the rest of her tea and swallowed a piece of toast whole. Hand in hand, they walked down the paths to Hogsmeade.

3

"Seriously, though," Chris said, throwing his hands around passionately. "The Cannons _can't_ improve anytime soon with that blubbering man they call a coach!"

"The coach has nothing to do with it," Rose said, shaking her head. "It's the analyst. The coach goes off what the analyst says more than half the time, right? So if the analyst isn't doing their job, then the coach can't do their job."

"Wait…quidditch has analysts?" Vinny – a second-year chaser for the Ravenclaw team – said.

"Yeah, they basically go through all the teams, picking out strengths and weaknesses," Chris said.

"Isn't that what the coach does?"

"The coach is responsible for preparing his team for those strengths and weaknesses. The analysts find the problems, the coaches find the solutions," Rose said and sipped at her butterbeer.

"So…I don't get it," Vinny said, shaking his head.

"That's perfectly alright, kid," Chris said, ruffling his dark hair. Vinny grinned sheepishly and buried his face in his mug.

"Vinny!" some second years shouted from across the pub. "Come here!"

"I got to go," Vinny said, slipping off the stool. He disappeared in the crowded Three Broomsticks.

"Sorry about that," Chris said. "He has great potential to be a decent chaser, but he's muggleborn, so he doesn't know a _thing_ about the sport."

"It's alright," Rose replied, grinning. "I'll take any chance to impress pro-Cannon support in an unsuspecting mind."

"Yeah…get on him while you have a chance. By the time I'm done with him, he'll be all about the Tornadoes, I assure you that."

"Sure…I'll just have to make sure I get equal time with him."

"No you won't," he said, his eyes narrowed. "He's mine. Find your own."

Rose chuckled, amused by his possessiveness.

"Alright, alright," Rose conceded. "I won't corrupt your little protégé."

"You'd better not," Chris said, a glowering look on his face.

"I won't," Rose promised solidly, hoping to ease that grimace from his face. She didn't like it – it made her uneasy.

"Ok," he said and sipped his butterbeer. He put on a grin and continued. "So…do you have any idea what you're going to do after Hogwarts?"

"Nope. You?"

"Ministry work, most likely."

"What do you want to do there?"

"Well…I think I want to work for the department of games and sports – work on establishing a quidditch program during the summers for Hogwarts and pre-Hogwarts witches and wizards. Just something so when they get to Hogwarts, they've already been exposed to the game."

"Sounds like a good idea."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I mean, it'll strengthen the sport in the long run, won't it? And it'll make the quidditch at Hogwarts all that more competitive. Something you might want to consider, though, is muggles, and maybe thinking about inviting muggle-born witches and wizards as well. Just to make the playing field level, you know?"

"Yeah, definitely. It's going to need some finagling along the lines of allowing us to approach the muggle-borns before they're eleven, but I don't think it'll be too much of an issue."

"You'll just have to make sure they're more…mature…than the others in their age group, which may mean they're also not interested in sports… so…I don't know. You'll make it work."

Chris smiled, his eyes warm.

"Hogwarts students!" Professor Wolfe called through the Three Broomsticks. "Hogwarts students, please progress back to the castle at this time!"

"That's new," Chris muttered, standing up.

"Probably trying to make it all more organized," Rose muttered. "Merlin knows how chaotic it gets rounding everyone up."

"I suppose."

Chris wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to his body. Unable to contain her grinning, Rose leaned into his embrace, walking in stride with him back to the castle.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Diane flopped down on the end of Rose's bed and stared at her. Annie sat next to Rose. Libby sat on the bed across from hers. Tony was no where to be found. Although, if they really wanted to, they could probably find her tucked away in a closet somewhere.

"So, tell us all about it," Diane said, rolling over on the bed.

"It was…good," Rose said, teasing them with a knowing smile.

"Ok…" Libby said. "What else?"

"He's…he's just…amazing. You know? It's like…he completely understands _everything_ I say – from quidditch to nonverbal spells, and…I feel like we could talk about anything."

"What _did_ you talk about?" Diane asked, shifting eagerly on the bed.

"Quidditch mostly," Rose replied. "Debated the Tornadoes and Cannons, a bit on defense against the dark arts, and a tad of transfiguration…"

"Did you, like, talk about anything _interesting_?" Annie sighed. "He's going to think you're this boring old lady who does nothing but quidditch."

"Annie," Diane said rather severely. "Rose _does_ do nothing but quidditch."

"Ugh," Annie groaned. "How do you survive on that? We need to expand your diet, girl. Maybe teach you how to _look_ like a girl, for one."

Rose felt her cheeks flush.

"No…that's quite alright," Rose said, biting back her discomfort and hoping – praying – Annie would let the subject drop.

"Seriously, though," Annie said. "Do you _want_ him to think of you more than a quidditch buddy?"

"He doesn't think of me like a quidditch buddy."

"How do you know? Hmmm? How? Oh, wait, yah don't."

"Buggar off."

"Rose, stop being such a prude. You _know_ you come off as one of the guys."

"Merlin, Libby, now you? Can't a girl just be herself?"

"Not if she wants to land the hottest guy at Hogwarts."

"Come on. You're all being childish."

"Are we?"

"I'm going to bed."

Rose nudged Diane and Annie of her bed with her feet and buried herself in her blankets. Sometimes, they were so impossible. Seriously. They were going to be bugging her about this for weeks, maybe months, possibly years.

3

For her birthday, Rose indulged in a day of studying in the library, alone. And pouring over volumes for her potions essay, she realized she wasn't indulging, nor was she fooling anyone into thinking she was indulging. The only thing she was doing was legitimate studying. While Fred and James played out in the snow – she had seen them running down the corridors with their gloves and hats falling all over the place. In fact, it seemed most people were out in the freshly fallen snow. Not that Rose blamed them. She just had expected more. Particularly out of the fifth years; weren't they supposed to be studying for O.W.L.s. And even out of the seventh years; didn't they have their N.E.W.T.s coming up? In fact, she doubted there was a single fifth or seventh year in the library.

She pulled herself from her chair and returned the tome to the bookshelf. Squatting to the lower levels, she scanned for a decent book detailing disguising potions. Her back was starting to ache. How long had she been here? She chanced a glance at her watch. Six hours. Six fruitless hours. Merlin! Why was it so frickin' difficult to track down information on disguising potions? How was she supposed to write an essay on them without the needed information?

Frustrated, she sprung back to her feet, crossing her arms in indignation. This was getting really ridiculous. She walked back to her table, her jaw set. Damn it. She stared at the blank piece of parchment, cut to the length Wolfe demanded. He had assigned an impossible task to a group of fourth-years. She knew it. She could feel it in her bones. He was toying with them.

Angrily, she sat down, not bothering to hide her contempt or frustration. She picked up her quill and started angrily scribbling down words, she didn't take care as to what they were. She smudged every other word and blotted every third. She didn't care. She needed to vent her frustration, and the parchment was the easiest thing.

"Well, it seems that Rose has lost her temper," a voice said from above her.

Rose glanced up to find Chris settling into the chair across from her. Her heart skipped a beat and her face drained of heat.

"Err…yeah…hey," she muttered, glancing at her ruined parchment. She crumpled it up and aggressively threw it in the trashcan across the room. After missing – as always -- she charmed it in.

"So…I hear today's your birthday," Chris said, sliding his hand under her book and pulling it towards him.

"A technicality."

"What're you doing here? Potions? On your birthday?" he looked slightly disgusted.

"I need to write an essay."

"Clearly you haven't made any headway."

"Yeah, well, information on disguising potions aren't exactly easy to come across, for some odd odd reason."

Chris looked like he was contemplating something, his lower lip clamped between his teeth and his eyes narrowed.

"You shouldn't be in a _library_ on your birthday," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"Maybe Wolfe shouldn't assign essays the day before my birthday, then."

"How long do you have to do it?" A look of incredulity passed across his face.

"Three weeks," she murmured, defensively grabbing the book back.

"Alright…if I find you the book you need to do this, will you come with me?"

"Where to?" Rose asked, crossing her arms defensively.

Chris just grinned.

"Agree first."

Rose looked around. She really had no idea what book it was that she needed. Or where to find it. Or what it was called. Or how big it was. Or anything about it, really. She needed his help.

"What if you just give me the title?" Rose asked, leaning back in her chair, putting on her bargaining hat.

"Nope. All or nothing."

"I don't know."

"Don't be stupid," he said. "First of all, it's your birthday, so you shouldn't be wasting your time in here, anyway. Second, you have no idea where to look for this book. Third, even if I _did_ tell you the title – which I won't – you won't know where to find it. It'll take just as much time to track it down based on that as it would if you had no clue. What are you going to do? You're in a hole, Rose."

Rose looked at him, her lips pressed together. She really wanted to get that essay done today, not tomorrow, not next week, but today. If she were to brush him off and tell him that she didn't want his help, she knew she would never find that book. She needed him. Heaving a great sigh, she nodded.

"Fine, where's the book?" Rose conceded, beginning to grab her things and drop them into her bag.

Chris flashed her a wide grin and disappeared between the stacks of shelves. Rose resigned herself to her fate and shoveled the rest of her quills and bottles of ink into her bag, ignoring precaution. It wasn't like she had anything irreplaceable in there or that she didn't know the charms and spells to clean up spilt ink, splotched ink, and ink wherever it isn't supposed to be. In fact, it was rumored throughout Gryffindor that she was the person to turn to with such household issues. Not that anyone _had_ turned to the tomboyish fourth year.

"Here's the book," he said. "You'll get it at the end of the day."

He plopped it on the table and waved his wand over it, vanishing it.

"You promise to give it to me?"

"Ravenclaw's honor."

"Really? You guys have a code of honor? I wasn't aware."

"Oh, we do," Chris said, his countenance a serious one. "Have no doubt about that. Now, come on. I want to go throw you in the snow a few times."

Chuckling – knowing full well that she could probably take him in a duel – Rose slid under the protective covering of his arm and the pair of them traipsed through the hallways.

3

Rose leaned against the wall next to the portrait of the Fat Lady, her blood burning with excitement, her lips still tingling from his kiss. She watched him leave, his nonchalant swagger sending shivers through her body. Closing her eyes, she relished the recollections of the day – wandering across the grounds, sneaking into the kitchnes, evading prefects. The goodnight kiss.

"You had best give me the password afore one of your prefects come by here," the Fat Lady said, her tone caught between admonishment and sympathy.

Somehow, Rose managed to draw forth the password and slid into the common room. She stood in the portrait hole, disturbed by the array of people standing in front of her – all of them undoubtedly eager to squeeze information of her whereabouts out of her.

"Where have you been?" James demanded angrily, his hands clenched at his side.

"How was it, Rose?" Annie asked, pushing by James, her eyes bright with anticipation.

"We told you to stay away from him!" Fred exclaimed, nudging by Annie.

"Freddy," Tony said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "don't you think that she's old enough to make her own decisions about the company she keeps?"

"Not of she's keeping company with Chris!"

"What do you have against Chris?" Diane said, crossing her arms angrily.

"He's a jerk!" James burst.

"How the bloody hell do you know that?" Annie said, staking her claim in the fray again

"Yeah! You don't even hang out with him!" Diane defended.

"Because he's a jerk!" Fred said pulling away from Tony, who was attempting to calm him down.

"Really? And how do you know this? You do realize you're just making assumptions, right?" Libby added.

"We are not just making assumptions," James snapped.

"Then how do you know he's a jerk, huh?" Annie said.

"Greg said so," Fred replied snidely.

The Gryffindor girls looked at each other, dumbstruck, before bursting out in laughter, all four of them holding their stomachs with mirth. Libby fell to the floor, tears in her eyes, and Annie soon followed her example. Fred and James, however, just burned with ruddy embarrassment.

"Everyone knows Greg's jealous of Chris!" Libby exclaimed, gasping for breath and holding back her laughter.

"That's a lie," Fred said venomously.

"No, it's not," Diane repeated. "Chris is popular, smart, gorgeous, and charming. Greg…Greg's just obsessed with quidditch."

"No he isn't," Fred said.

"Well…he is a _bit_ obsessed, but that _doesn't_ mean he's jealous!" James conceded.

"You know," Rose said, her tempter dangerously flaring, "I think _you're_ both jealous. You just can't stand it that I'm moving on from you two. You just want me to stick around with you so I can solve your bloody problems and fix your bloody mistakes. But you know what? I'm not doing that anymore, got it? I'm not going to figure out how to pull off your pranks or remind you to do your bloody essays. I have a life of my own now. I'll do what I want, not way you two tell me I have to do."

"We're older than you!" Fred yelled. "We will tell you what to do!"

"I'm _fifteen_! I'm not some kid that's afraid of falling off a bloody broom!"

"Erm…Rose…I think you still _are _afraid to fall off a broom," James said cruelly, not bothering to hide his contempt.

"Shove it!" Rose demanded.

"I can't believe you! We try to help you out, and you just yell at us What is that? Some of kind of sardonic payback?" James said.

"I'm _not_ your little sister!"

"Might as well be!"Fred roared.

Rose reached into her pocket and drew her wand.

"Rose Weasley!" Professor Longbottom bellowed through the common room.

Rose looked away from Fred at the herbologist standing in the entrance to the common room, wearing plaid pajama pants and bunny slippers.

"Put your wand away this instant and go to bed! All of you!"

Reluctantly, Rose tucked her wand back into her pocket and turned to go to her dormitory. At the sight of the entire Gryffindor house staring at her, her face burned with embarrassment, and her anger ignited a fire within her.

"Get out of my way," she growled at an innocent first year. The first year plastered herself against the wall, clearing the way for Rose.

How could they do that to her? She stomped up the stairs, not bothering to hide her anger. She wasn't a little girl – she didn't need their protection. She flung her door open and flopped down on her bed. She didn't want their protection. Merlin, they didn't even know what protection was! They were being controlling, not protective.

Damn it. How could they take a day that could have been perfect and twist it to their own warped view of righteousness? She wanted to kill them for overshadowing a fantastic day – for overshadowing her first kiss…perhaps even her first date…

Desperately, she tried to subdue her anger and draw forth those emotions of elation from earlier.

How could they do this to her?


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Rose's gaze looked up by Tony's head, out towards the Ravenclaw table. She could see Chris talking with some of his quidditch team – his chasers, if Rose remembered correctly. His eyes were burning with passion and excitement. They were talking about quidditch. There was no doubt about it.

"Looking at him?" Libby asked, a slight smirk on her face.

Rose promptly turned her attention to her half-eaten eggs, not offering a straight response.

"I think so, Libs," Annie said, nudging Rose in the ribs.

Rose nudged her back and she stopped. This constant teasing was starting to rub her the wrong way. All she wanted to do was get up and sit next to Chris, engage in his conversation, tell him about the key Gryffindor weaknesses and how Ravenclaw can strengthen theirs. She really hated the Gryffindor team right now. At least, she hated two particular beaters on the team who hadn't stopped bothering her about her choice of company these past three Fridays.

"Why don't you just suck it up and go over there?" Libby asked, twirling a piece of bread in some runny yolk.

"Because then I'd be imposing," Rose sighed.

"Oh, come on," Annie said. "Haven't you been seeing each other for a month?"

"We're…we've just studied," Rose said, beginning to get uncomfortable.

"Mhmm…sure," Diane said. "I've seen you two in the library. You can't keep your hands off of each other."

"That's a lie," Rose said sharply. "We _have_ been studying. I needed to get a head start on my O.W.L.s, and he was willing to help me."

"With the reward of physical caresses," Annie muttered.

Without hesitation, Rose pushed her off the bench.

"No there isn't," Rose growled down at her, Annie's face staring at her in embarrassment and shock.

"Rose!" Libby said, reaching down to help out Annie.

"Whatever," Rose groaned, standing up in indignation. She had had enough of them, anyway. Shouldering her bag, she left the great hall, knowingly leaving a mess for her roommates to clean up. She really couldn't deal with them right now. In want of a refuge, she slipped into the library – abandoned, as usual, on a Saturday morning. She took her usual perch in the corner, the book on defense against the dark arts she had pulled last night still haphazardly balancing on the arm of her chair. She sunk into the cushions, letting the book fall open on her knees. Her eyes scanned the page with ease, her mind falling into the rhythm of reading.

"Hello," a familiar voice said, the cushioned chair next to Rose groaning in response to his weight.

"I'm trying to study," she said lightly, knowing he wouldn't listen.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"That book is going to do you nothing. This just goes over the basics," he said. His calloused hands reached out and took it firmly.

"Did it ever occur to you that I need the basics?" she asked, taking it back firmly.

The book was heavier than she thought and she dropped it with a slight curse. He picked up the volume and closed it with a resounding clap.

"I highly doubt _the_ Rose Weasley needs to recover basics. Third in your class, aren't you?"

"Fourth," Rose muttered, taking the book back angrily. Beginning of this year, she had been second, but a couple of frickin' Hufflepuffs decided to get serious; when were Hufflepuffs ever serious? And so her spot was lost. When she found out, she was ready to murder every Hufflepuff in a ten-mile radius.

"Oooh…tough break," he said, the sympathy in his voice not in the least bit sarcastic like Fred and James tend to be.

Rose sighed and quickly rubbed her eyes. She hated talking about her slipping rank…with anyone. The way things were going, some random guy in Slytherin was going to surpass her before the year was up. Her marks seemed to be transforming from something she barely tried at to something giving her quite a bit of stress.

"So…what's your weakness?" he asked again. It felt like the millionth time he asked that. He reached out and pulled the book from her hand and tossed it on the table between them.

"I don't _know_, Chris," she snapped. "Do you think if I _did_ know I would be sitting here reading the same book over and over, searching for the one thing I missed? Damn it!" She stood up, throwing invisible things on the floor. "I'm sick of this! Why am I falling behind? Why're _Hufflepuffs _doing better than I am? I'm a fucking Gryffindor! I ought to be second! I _deserve_ to be second!"

"Calm down, Rose," Chris said, putting his strong hands on her shoulders, his comforting eyes staring into hers.

Immediately, her anger retreated. How could she be angry with him looking at her like that? Like she was the only one in the world? With her anger no longer clogging her emotional channels, her sadness came over her like a truck. She had lost her prestigious position as second. Lost it to a Hufflepuff. A Hufflepuff. Despair cloaked her heart, weighing her down. She lost it to a Hufflepuff she could never surpass. Tears welled in her eyes like thousands of needles. Her throat tightened like an invisible rope was tautly fastened around her neck. She looked at Chris, wondering if there was anyway he could…

His arms wrapped tightly around her, pressing her to his body. She inhaled sharply, surprised at this sudden – and brazen – act. She let it out slowly, allowing herself to conform to his larger body.

"It's ok," he whispered, gently rubbing her back. "It'll be ok."

She started crying, the tears catching in his tee-shirt. Her hands slipped around his back and held him tightly, his hard body offering her stability, a strong foundation. Everything seemed to be slipping away – her friends, her family, her marks…Chris was the only thing that had been there like an old oak tree, unmoving and unchanging. She gripped him tighter, clinging to her rock and foundation. He squeezed her back, not moving an inch.

"You're a brilliant witch," he murmured.

"N-no I'm not."

"Yes you are. You're what? A fourth year? And you're already working on non-verbal spells. That's N.E.W.T. stuff."

"N-no," she sobbed.

"Yes."

He kissed her on top of her head and continued to hold her, not moving away until she let go of him first.

"I'm sorry," Rose said, wiping her face on her sleeve.

"Don't worry about it," Chris said, reluctantly letting his hands drop from her lower back.

"I…I just…" She put her palms to her eyes in an effort to prevent herself from crying some more.

"Really. It's alright. You have your O.W.L.s coming up, and your marks are slipping, and Fred and James are being complete pricks – I understand."

Rose glanced up at him, a slight smile on her lips.

"Now come on," Chris said, picking up her bag. "You need to get out of the library sometimes."

He hooked his arm across her shoulders and directed her out to the quidditch pitch, where he proceeded to convince her to fly and where she proceeded to fly – not well, but miraculously without falling.

3

The parchment fell to the floor with a dull flutter. Rose's heart stopped, the pain radiating through her body almost overbearing. Poor. _Poor._ How the bloody hell could she get a fucking _poor_ on an _essay_ for _transfiguration_? How could she fail her best subject? And an essay, no less!

She pulled her wand and drove a hole right through the floor of the girl's dormitory, turning the essay into a pile of dust. She started pacing restlessly, her hands lodged deep in her robe pockets. How could she let this happen? Her ranking was going to slip again. She sat down on the edge of her bed and pressed her palms into her eyes. Her _ranking_ was going to slip _again. _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck._

The door creaked open and Libby came in, casting a quick glance at Rose before sprawling out on her bed. Rose ignored her, still reeling. What could she do? She had to make up that gap. She had a _huge_ gap. There was _no way_ to make that up!

"You're going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that," Libby said nonchalantly.

Rose shot a glance up at her, realizing her fingernails digging into her thigh. She pressed her lips together and released her leg, not bothering to be alarmed at the crescents she created there.

"Ryder doesn't give extra credit, does she?" Rose asked, a bit more aggressively than she intended.

"Only one that does is Hagrid, and I doubt you want to be on the other side of his extra credit assignments."

Rose clenched her teeth and stood up, pacing again. Libby glanced up from a magazine she was reading.

"What's wrong?" Libby asked, her voice tight.

"Nothing," Rose said.

Libby left it at that.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

"Rosie," Chris said, grabbing her hand at the mouth of the Great Hall. "Come sit with me – you always look so miserable with the Gryffindors."

Rose glanced up at him, slightly surprised at his proposition. Would they even let a Gryffindor at the Ravenclaw table? Before she could object, she was sitting next to him, a piece of chicken and some green beans on her plate. Chris's arm was snaked around her waist protectively. He speared his green beans and asparagus with his fork.

"I saw your rank," he said, his voice low and bit grainy.

Rose struggled not to spit her chicken back on her plate. Her rank was not the first thing she wanted to talk about. In fact, she would greatly like to forget it. Since failing her transfiguration essay, she completely missed a practical exam in charms and slipped up twice in potions. The ranking would reflect that. Rather pointedly, she imagined.

"Have you seen it?" he pressed, his mouth half-full of green beans and asparagus.

"No," she replied, gently putting her fork back on the table.

Chris removed his arm from her waist and continued chewing. Rose glanced at him, her heart pounding against her chest.

"I'm disappointed," he said, staring at his plate, his fork on the table. "You aren't even in the top ten anymore."

Rose stared at him, unable to breath or blink or…

"I would think that someone with your capabilities would be able to come out at least in the top ten, even when slacking off."

His voice cut through her like a knife, the words echoing her own thoughts and fears.

"I don't…I don't know if you _do_ deserve that second spot," he said softly.

Rose glared at him, her breathing ragged. How dare he suggest that? She worked harder than everyone else in Gryffindor. In fact, she was the only Gryffindor in the top twenty.

"If you really had that kind of mind, then you would at _least_ be in the top ten, wouldn't you? I think those Hufflepuffs deserve it more than you."

"You're wrong," Rose muttered.

"What?"

"You're wrong."

"I'm wrong?"

"Yes."

"How'm I wrong, Rose? Hmmm? Is it that I'm supposing you may, perhaps, actually _have_ the potential to have the second spot? Or maybe it's just that you _don't_."

"I work harder than _every other_ fucking Gryffindor," she hissed, her anger palpable.

"Watch your language – it makes you sound uneducated," Chris said gently. "And I'm not suggesting that you don't, Rosie. I _know_ you do. That's what just…I don't know…frustrates me more. I just…I don't want you to set unrealistic goals."

"I'm _not_ setting unrealistic goals."

"I understand you think you can climb back to the two spot. But…look, you might not honestly be sharp enough. And…and that's ok…come on, now, don't cry."

Rose stared resolutely at her cold chicken and bit down hard on her tongue. It was one thing to think all these things – that she just was incapable of reclaiming her rank. It was another to hear them spoken by someone else – someone you respected. She pushed herself up from the table. Chris grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down.

"I want you to succeed," he said.

Rose turned to look at him, his warm eyes encompassing her.

"But if it's going to make you miserable, forget it."

"No," Rose said. "No. I'm going to do it."

She stood up again, removing herself from his sphere of influence.

"Where are you going?" he asked, standing up.

"I need to…I need to work on charms," Rose said, beginning to walk down the hallway. Chris followed after her with promises to help.

"I have to do this alone," Rose said.

"You can't do this alone. You've _been_ doing this alone. See how it turned out?"

He grabbed her wrist again, spinning her around. He pointed at the wall, the long list of rankings posted there. Rose followed his finger: 15. Rose Weasley. The page glowed briefly orange, and when it settled an updated rank was there. 17. Rose Weasley. She turned away from the parchment and burst into the library, sinking into a chair with a charms book.

"That isn't going to help you," Chris said.

"Then what will?" Rose snapped, looking up from the book.

"Practical application."

Rose pressed her lips together and glanced from the book to Chris and back to the book. He was right. He was always right.

"Come on. I know of an abandoned classroom on the fourth floor," he said.

Reluctantly, Rose let the book flop on the chair and she followed after Chris to the abandoned classroom, telling herself all the while that this was the only way to climb in the rankings.

3

"So, Rose Weasley. It's fast nearing the end of the year," Professor Longbottom said, putting on his professional teacher hat.

Rose struggled not to roll her eyes, imagining him at the end of the year picnic at Shell Cottage, his face smeared with barbeque sauce from the ribs. The professional teacher hat did not suit him very well.

"Yes it is, professor," Rose said.

"And as you know, coming next September, you will be beginning your fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Yeah."

"And at the end of that year you will take your O.W.L.s."

"Yep."

"And then go on to N.E.W.T. level classes."

"Mhmmm."

"Do you have any idea what you want to do for a profession?"

"I know what I _don't_ want to do."

"And what would that be?"

"Work at the joke shop, work at the ministry, work with dragons, scoop poo, make coffee, chase dark wizards, sell stuff, teach, work as an accountant…"

"Ok, ok, I get the idea – you haven't a clue. Think about it over the summer, will you? Oh, and this is your award."

Professor Longbottom handed her an envelope. Rose took it and stuffed it in her bag, not really wanting to look at it right now. She knew what it was, her award for finishing the year ranking twelfth. It wasn't anything she could be proud of.

"Go and finish getting ready to leave," he said, closing up some of his drawers. "And congratulations on that. I know how hard you worked to get your rank back up."

"Yeah," Rose muttered, standing up and leaving. It was a huge disappointment.

3

Chris sunk into the seat next to Rose on the train, wrapping his arm around her waist in the familiar position they had adopted whenever sitting next to each other. She leaned into his embrace, letting herself be sheltered by his comforting arms.

"I can't believe we lost the cup," one of the chasers for the Ravenclaw team said angrily, throwing himself on the seat opposite Rose.

"We'll get them next year," Chris said, gently playing with the hem of Rose's shirt. "They're losing two of their chasers."

"They have solid second strings," Rose said, putting her hand on his. "They're both going to be sixth years and have worked together since second year."

"Who?" the chaser – Henry – demanded, balling his hands.

"Wood and Owens," Rose said, leaning against him.

"What's their weakness?" Chris asked, his thumb running over her palm.

"Uh…they're actually tighter than Helix and Pomp. You're going to be hard pressed to find some tighter. I think Wood's on her way to playing professionally, and you can bet Owens is going to try. Actually, Fred and Jim are probably the weak points on the team. I mean, sure, they get the job done, but they don't communicate well with the rest of the team," Rose said and sighed. "If they had tighter beaters, they'd be unstoppable. More than once, they could have used some back-up but Fred and James were preoccupied with something."

"Do they know this?" Chris asked.

"Dunno. I've told them enough times, but if they listened…you'd have to ask them."

"What's Ravenclaw's weakness?" Henry asked, on the edge of his seat.

"Your keeper," Rose said. "He needs to go. You need Hugo in there. Hugo's about three times more accurate as Todd, just so you know. It seems you guys are…blind…sometimes when it comes to your own abilities. But, other than your keeper, you actually have a rather well-rounded team and quite a few capable seconds. In the next few years, I'm confident you'll come out with the cup."

Chris kissed her on the top of the head and Rose couldn't hold back her grin. She loved saying something that pleased him, even something as simple as suggesting his team would win the cup. His grip tightened against her and the train began the grinding halt that would bring them to the platform.

"I have to go see to my prefect duties," Chris said, standing up. "I'll be in contact, Rosie."

"Ok."

Smiling his intoxicating smile, Chris slipped from the compartment, leaving Henry and Rose alone. Henry's demeanor suddenly changed; he relaxed and his hands loosened from their tight fists.

"I'd be careful if I were you," he said, standing up. "Chris isn't someone you can play."

"What are you talking about?" Rose asked, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat.

"I just…you seem blind…needy, almost. That's a dangerous place to be with Chris."

Rose stared at him, not sure what to say. What could she say? He was supposing she wasn't suitable to take care of herself, the same supposition that Fred and Jim had made. The same supposition that still burned her to the bone.

"You don't know what you're talking about," she said and pressed her lips tightly together.

"Sure I don't," Henry said, his sarcasm not lost on her.

He slipped from the compartment, a disappointed look plastered on his face. Rose shook her head. He couldn't boss her around. Hell, he didn't even know her. He probably didn't even know Chris, either. He and Greg were probably in cahoots, turning the whole school against the popular beater (soon to be chaser). Realizing all of Hogwarts was currently surging through the hallway, she grabbed hold of her trunk and pulled it after her, meeting up with Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey for the ride back to the Burrow.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

"What's the prognosis, Rose?" Aunt Ginny asked, passing her the large bowl of potato salad.

"About what?" Rose asked, adding salt and pepper to the dish.

"Your marks."

"Alright," Rose said, putting the pepper back on the table.

"How alright?"

"I ranked twelfth."

"That's not bad."

"It's not good."

"Rose, you're too hard on yourself."

"I should be second."

"Did you work hard?"

"I…I guess so."

"Then you're being too hard on yourself. Here, bring this out."

Aunt Gin gave her a platter of bread for the hamburgers Uncle Harry and her dad were supposed to be cooking – as far as she was concerned (and Aunt Fleur), they were completely burning them. Reluctantly, Rose emerged from the house, ignoring the glares from Fred and James, the curious looks from all her aunts, and the disregard of Victoire as she struggled to do something with Flora. She walked up to her father and offered the bread. He took it and looked at her for a few minutes, a contemplative look on his face.

"So, Rose, we haven't had a talk about your marks yet," he said, reigning her in while Uncle Harry flipped the burgers again.

"Yeah?" Rose lingered by her father, wondering why he was asking. Usually he only cared about the trouble she got in, not her marks.

"How'd you rank?"

"Twelfth," she said, trying to muster as much pride as she could. As far as her father knew, she thought her dad knew nothing about her rank.

"Terrible," he muttered, shaking his head. "How could you slip up so much?"

Rose looked at him, blinking. What did he just say?

"I thought you ranked two going into this last half?"

"Yeah…"

"You're despicable. How could you _fail_ so much?"

"Ron," Uncle Harry said, putting a hand on her dad's shoulder. "You're being too hard on her. She ranked twelfth – only two out of the top ten."

"It's not good enough, Harry! She should be first!" her dad burst, pulling off her her uncle. "It's not like you even understand, Harry! We all know Albus _barely_ scrapes by at twentieth!"

"That's not fair!" Uncle Harry shouted, instantly becoming incensed. "We both know Al has…" he glanced around futilely. "We both know he has some difficulties!"

"Oh, yeah, like having _sight_ issues is really that bad when you consider he always has his _nose_ in a book!"

"Rose, go play with Fred and James," Uncle Harry said, not taking his eyes away from her dad.

"No," her dad said, grabbing her by the arm rather tightly. "We still haven't gotten to the bottom of this!"

"The bottom of what, Ron?" her mum said, quickly popping up by her dad's side. She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him gently away from Rose. "What's wrong?"

"Rose, here, ranked twelfth," he said, crossing his arms.

Rose looked at her mum, her breath catching in her throat. Her mum was going to rip her a new one, she expected.

"Well, that's rather disappointing," her mum said. "Harry, I believe the burgers are done. Come on, let's eat."

Rose watched her mum drag her dad away towards the tables and set him down with a few stern words. He returned them, and before Rose knew it they were in an all-out fight, both of them screaming about her at the top of their lungs. Rose slunk back into the house with a hamburger, not really wanting to get involved. She sprawled on the couch and waited for the party to be over.

3

"You're working at the shop in Diagon Alley. Report there at noon," Rose's dad told her at breakfast, stiffly opening up his copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Umm…Dad…I was going to try and get a job at the quidditch supply shop in Hogsmeade."

"No. You're working at Diagon Alley."

"What? I already asked you if I could!"

"When?" he demanded loudly.

"I sent you a letter at the end of last month!"

"I never saw it. I don't believe you. You're going to Diagon Alley!"

"Dad!"

"No, Rose."

"Mum!"

"What, Rose?"

"You sent the reply back saying it was ok! Won't you tell him?"

Her mum looked a little taken aback, like she didn't know what Rose was talking about.

"You know, the letter at the end of May?" Rose said, beginning to get slightly annoyed; how could she not remember?

"Oh! Right, _that_ letter," her mum said, bowing her head to her eggs.

"Hermione," her dad said, his voice low. "What letter?"

"She sent a letter at the end of May, making sure it was ok if she set up the contacts to get her a job at the quidditch shop this summer."

"And you approved without talking to me?"

"Yes, Ron, I did. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal."

"Well it is a big deal!"

"How is it a big deal?"

"What do you mean how is it a big deal?"

"It isn't like some random guy is going to abduct her or anything!"

"You don't know that!"

Her dad stood up and banged his hands on the table.

"I am _not_ letting my daughter work with people I don't know!" he howled, his voice shaking the house.

"Ronald! You're being completely unreasonable!"

"How am I being unreasonable?

"Our daughter doesn't want to work at a joke shop, can you blame her? You can't expect her to be there forever! Just let her go!"

"It's not about letting her go! It's about keeping her bloody safe!"

"Yeah, because keeping her holed up in Diagon Alley is going to fix that!"

"I'm late," her dad said, his voice still dripping with anger. He walked out the front door and disapparated.

"Why don't you two go to Aunt Gin's?" her mum said, breathless.

3

Rose leaned back on the grass, watching Fred, James, Al, Hugo, and Lily fly around, each one preoccupied with their various maneuvers. Every now and then, she would shout something to one of them, tell them to adjust their shoulders or tighten their bloody knees. James couldn't handle a quaffle if his life depended on it, and she told him so. Fred had poor beater posture, and she let him know. Lily…she didn't have any problems. The girl never did. She was a bloody good keeper, for her size and all. If her hands were a bit bigger and her arms a bit longer, Rose would say she had an incredible quidditch career ahead of her. The girl wasn't too bad a chaser, either – impeccable balance and speed. If only Hugo had her innate skill…

"Good afternoon," Greg said, sitting on the grass next to her.

"Hey," she replied flatly. "Hugo! Tighten your bloody knees!" His knees visibly tightened.

"So, coach, how're things going?"

"Fine. James! Keep your arm around the quaffle! Don't bring it out until you're ready to throw it!"

"What do you think about the Harpies this coming season?"

"If they get rid of…James! You missed a chance!...if they get rid of Swod, then I think they have a chance at the championship."

"If they didn't have Swod, would you be a fan?"

"Hell no. Cannons all the way. Hugo! Extend your arms all the way!"

"Then I think you might like this news," he said, passing her an edition of _Quidditch Weekly_.

"Swod's being traded? To who?" Rose said, flipping the magazine open furiously.

"Guess."

"Oh….shit….shit shit shit shit shit!" She stood up, her eyes focused on the page, flipping furiously through the articles. "What the fuck are they thinking? They can't take Swod! They can't! How can they do this?"

She turned to Greg, throwing the magazine in the air. This was repulsive, unacceptable, irrational and irresponsible.

"What's wrong?" Hugo called down.

"The Cannons are getting Swod!" Rose shrieked, her voice startling some birds from their nests.

"Isn't Swod good, though?" Hugo asked, circling lower near Rose.

"You are impossibly ignorant, Hugo!" Rose shrieked again, kicking the air. "I can't believe this! They should have more sense than this!"

She flopped down on the ground prostrate, her eyes trained on the firmament.

"So…are you still a Cannon's fan?"

Rose glanced over at Greg, not even the slightest bit amused.

"Tornadoes," she said smoothly, tucking her hands behind her head, knowing it would infuriate him that she picked Chris's team.

"You infidel," Greg muttered, hitting her lightly with the magazine.

"Bug off," she said, hitting him with the back of her hand.

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous? You're the one who thinks that just because I'm a girl, I'm going to like the Harpies!"

"But you missed something," Chris said, grabbing the magazine and opening to a different page. "Here." He thrust it under her nose.

"The Harpies…the Harpies are getting Wood?" she asked, her voice strained. "Wood's…Wood's brilliant…"

"I know," Greg said, leaning back on the grass. "James! Tighten your knees!"

"You're such a jerk, Greg," she said angrily, throwing the magazine at him.

Greg laughed, his voice carrying through the empty fields. Rose shook her head and laid down next to him, folding her arms behind her head.

"How could they take Swod?" Rose whispered, venom dripping from her tone. "don't they realize that the Cannon keepers can't support her enough? The bloody Harpies are going to win the cup this year."

"How positive are you about that?" Greg glanced over at her, an odd glint in his eyes.

"What do you mean; how positive am I about that? Of course I'm positive about it. I'm fully positive about it. How can I _not_ be positive about that?"

"You make me laugh, Rosie," Greg said, sighing.

Rose glanced at him, surprised at her reaction to him using her nickname. It didn't bother her like it did with James and Fred. It seemed natural, relaxed. Her heart skipped a beat and she shook her head. It didn't mean anything. He just had a way with her, that's all it was.

"You kids want some lunch?" Aunt Gin called from the back porch.

Rose quickly stood up, Greg at her side, and made her way to the kitchen before the boys could eat all the roast beef sandwiches.

3

"So you've worked at your father's shop before?" Mr. Varney asked, looking down at the sheaf of parchment Rose had given him.

"Yes, sir."

"And you're highly enthusiastic about quidditch?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you're ok with wearing Harpies' uniforms?"

"Uh…why do I have to wear a Harpies' uniform?"

"Oh, right, each one of our staff numbers has a team they become an expert of. You seem to have an extensive knowledge of the Harpies, so I'm putting you on staff there."

"Isn't there…isn't there another team…?"

"No, we just lost our Harpies' representative to the ministry. It's a popular team and needs representation."

"I suppose I'm fine with it…"

"Good, good; I don't think you're going to need much training. Can you come in tomorrow to get your uniform and a brief training period?"

"Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem."

"Welcome to the High Light staff, Rose," Mr. Varney said, extending his hand across the desk.

Rose took it, a grin on her face, eagerness beginning to swelling within her.

3

Chris wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing Rose close to his body even in the heat of midsummer.

"Where are you taking me?" Rose asked, wrapping her arm around his strong waist, admiring the knots of muscle under his shirt. He had devoted a good amount of time over the summer to building his body, preparing for the coming quidditch season as the seventh year captain. Rose knew he was ready; he would completely demolish the young chasers from Slytherin effortlessly. She smiled at the thought of the fruitless efforts of the other houses; Chris was a beast.

"Where am I taking you?" he said, his voice light with amusement.

"Yeah -- where are you taking me?"

"Well, at first I was going to take you home to meet my parents, but I don't think that's a good idea today. You seem a bit too lovely for that, today." He kissed her head.

"So what are you thinking? It's too hot to go flying."

"I know, besides, you still aren't terribly good at it."

"I never will be."

Chris chuckled and steered her into the Three Broomsticks. They sat down next to each other at a booth, his arm snaking around her waist, she scooting closer towards him.

"Are we meeting people here?"

"Jason and Greg," Chris said, his thumb gently rubbing against her abdomen.

"Greg is coming?" Rose cursed the excitement in her voice.

Chris stopped rubbing her and glared at her for a second, trying to ascertain what she meant by that, by her enthusiasm. She reached behind his head, her fingers brushing his soft hair, and kissed his cheek, an offering of peace. His stony expression softened slightly and he returned the gesture.

"You're mine," he said, his voice low. "Never forget that."

"I love being yours," she replied softly, her hands brushing across his hard chest.

"I'm glad."

He smiled slightly, but his eyes were still cold.

"Damn it, Chris," Jason said, sliding into the booth opposite them. "Why didn't you tell me we could bring girls?"

"What are you talking about?" Chris defended, his arm tightening around Rose.

"You brought Rose!"

"She's here to discuss quidditch," Chris said.

"I am?" Rose said, looking up at him, something off-putting by the concept of being dragged somewhere for ulterior motives.

"I thought you were the ultimate source of all quidditch knowledge, piglet," he said teasingly, pinching her flesh.

"Well…I…"

"What's our weakness this year?" Jason said, leaning across the table.

"What?" Rose turned to the kid, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Err…."

"Relax, Rose," Chris chuckled and kissed her lightly on the head. "Jason, you should know your place by now."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jason grumbled, throwing himself back against the booth. "Sure I do."

"No, you really do," Greg said, slipping into the booth next to them. "Sorry I'm late. Fred ran into some trouble and needed me to stay back a few extra minutes. Jason, just so you know, Rose could take you without thinking about it. Be wary, will you? I need you as beater this year."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jason grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So what is this all about?" Greg continued, taking control of the conversation as if he was the one orchestrating it.

"We're here to discuss the Gryffindor beaters," Chris said.

"Oh, well, why is Rose here, then?" Greg asked.

"What do you mean?" Chris demanded, his flat tone denoting his anger.

"I've spent the entire summer at the Burrow," Greg explained, a bit of smugness making its way into his tone. "I probably know their technique better than she does. After all, she's spent her entire summer at the supply shop."

"However, she has a better handle on their overall weaknesses, having observed them for a while longer than you have. She can tell us bad habits, poor form, and all that stuff that we have no idea about."

"That's just not true," Greg said. "More than half the summer, she spent attached to your hip."

"Well excuse me if she has a life," Chris snapped back.

"I'm just saying that while they were practicing, she was off gallivanting through Diagon Alley. So if you're going to sit there and think that she has all the information we could possible need, then I think you need to put this all in perspective. There is no way she knows more than I do."

"Greg, I'm the captain of the team…"

"And you don't think that she's just inhibiting…"

"She's not inhibiting anything!"

Chris's face flushed red, his anger getting the better of him.

"Don't you dare to question my authority as a captain, kid!"

"I'm barely a month younger than you!" Greg howled, standing up and knocking over a chair. "Where do you get off calling me _kid_?"

"You're my underling!"

"Underling? Please. We both know I know more about quidditch than you ever will. And as for your whore of a girl…"

"Don't you _dare _talk about Rose that way!"

Chris stood up, nearly flipping the table in the process. Greg matched his stance.

"Chris," Rose said pleadingly, putting a hand on his arm gently. "Calm down."

"He just called you a fucking whore, and all you can say is leave him alone?" Chris snapped. "No, I'm going to take care of this, got it?"

Chris walked around the table and grabbed his beater's collar and dragged him out of the pub. Jason followed, yelling at them to stop. Rose shook her head and slumped down in the seat. This was going to end in blood.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

"Where have you been?" Rose's dad demanded, standing in the door to her bedroom, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

Rose took off her work uniform -- a Harpie's jersey -- and turned to face him. His ears were dangerously red, his eyes narrowed, and his hands tightly balled. This was not going to end well.

"Work," Rose replied casually, slipping into her new Tornado's sweatshirt Chris had insisted on getting her. It fit a whole lot better than her Cannons one did and Merlin knows how much she _adores_ the Cannons with Swod as their damned keeper.

"You were supposed to get out of work hours ago."

"One hour ago, actually, and then I went with Chris to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer with the guys."

She deliberately left out the part of Greg calling her a whore and Chris beating the crap out of the poor kid. That was sure to come up in future conversations, though. She could see it now -- her dad with her uncle sitting around watching the boys toss around a quaffle and her dad asking why Greg's wearing a face mask. 'Oh,' Uncle Harry would say, 'didn't Rose tell you? Chris bashed his face in.'

"You never asked permission," he growled.

Rose stopped putting away her clean laundry. Did her dad just reprimand her for getting a drink at the Longbottom's place? He did, didn't he? Neville had a clear eye on her there. What was he thinking?

"Dad…"

"No excuses Rose!" he yelled, his voice rattling the windows with his fury. "You _ask_ before you go anywhere but to work! From here to there and back again, understand?"

"Dad, I'm not five!"

"It's for your own safety," he said harshly, his teeth bared in a threatening manner. Without another word, the grimace still plastered on his face, he slammed the door shut.

Rose stared at the shut door, unsure of what to do. Should she go after him, try to apologize, attempt to get back on his good side? Should she stay here, finish up her laundry, and read the quidditch magazine Chris had given her with the supplement on Wood like she planned? She had an irking feeling that something wasn't quite right, that something was wrong. What could it be that only affected her father? Her mum was acting perfectly normal -- holing herself in her room for hours on end, pouring over books, cooking dreadful and potentially harmful concoctions. Silently, she sunk to the edge of the bed. What just happened?

3

Rose stumbled out of her room, her Harpies robes slung over her arm. She had to be at work in half an hour. Throwing her hair back haphazardly, she bumbled into the kitchen, looking for coffee. Where was it? Her mind was fuzzy, refusing to focus on what was around her.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" someone yelled from the other room. "We can't keep doing this shit!"

"Ronald, please!" the second voice was hushed, urging the first to calm.

"No! You don't fucking understand! You don't!"

Something broke. A sob. An indecipherable scream. Who _was_ that? Her mum? Rubbing her aching head, Rose stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her father pinning her mum against the wall.

"Ronald," her mother said, her voice trembling. "Get a hold of yourself…"

Rose scanned the room. The vase was broken against the wall. Neither of them had wands. Her heart skipped a beat. What the _fuck_ was going on?

"Hermione," he growled. "You. Don't. Understand. You never have. You never will. Listen to me. You need to leave. We need to leave. Go into hiding. He's going to find us. He's going to kill us!"

"Ronald, he's dead," she pleaded, putting her hands on his chest. He slapped them away.

"Pack your things."

"Ronald!"

He hit her.

Across the face.

She was defenseless.

Blood trickled from her lip.

Rose's hand reached for her wand tucked away in her pocket. Her parents didn't notice her.

"Pack your things," her father repeated, wrapping a large hand around her mother's small arm.

"Ronald…" She winced from the pain. "Ronald, he's dead. Gone. He won't…he won't hurt you…or us… let go of me…please…"

He pulled her slightly away from the wall and banged her hard against it. Rose started to shake, her breath seizing in her throat. What could she do?

"Listen to me, Hermione! For once in your Goddamn life, _listen_ to me!"

He took her by both shoulders and started shaking her.

"Ronald!"

Rose's wand fell out of her hand, an iron clamp wrapping around her chest.

"We have to get out of here! They know we're here!" He was frantic, his voice hoarse and urgent. "They're going to _kill_ us, Hermione! Kill us and the kids!"

"They're dead, Ron…dead," her mum cried, tears falling down her cheeks.

"No they aren't!"

He hit her again, and she cried out.

"They _aren't_ dead, Hermione! They're not!" He shook her, every time he shook her, her body hit the wall, every time she hit the wall more tears came from her eyes. "Why can't you fucking understand?"

Hugo came out of his room. Rose could hear him walk down the hallway, his loping stride unmistakable. Rose felt him bend down and pick up her wand, felt him reach out, felt him mutter a spell, felt her father fall to the ground, immobilized. Their mum crumbled on the floor like a rag doll, sobbing, covering her face with her hands.

"Go get Uncle Harry, Rose," Hugo said, his voice flat and emotionless, still holding her wand.

Without thinking, Rose stumbled to the fireplace, her legs barely strong enough to carry her. She threw floo powder on the flames and stepped inside.

3

"Rose? Rose! What's the matter?"

"Dad…he…and…" Rose sobbed. "Uncle Harry…Where…where is...where is…"

"Calm down, Rose. Breathe. Breathe, ok? Just breathe."

"Greg…I…I…I need my…my uncle…where…"

"I…I don't know what you're…"

"Rose?" James walked into the sitting room in only his boxers. "What're you…?"

"Where's your father?" Greg interrupted.

"Work."

"I…I…I…need to…to speak with…"

"Where's your mum?"

"Sleeping, I think…."

"Go get her, hurry up. Something's wrong."

"O-ok," James said, running up the stairs at full speed.

"Rose… Rose? It'll be ok, alright? Everything'll be ok…" He put his hands gently on her shoulders, the heavy weights offering her some balance, some comfort. "Sit down." He directed her towards the couch, where she collapsed and buried her face.

"I'm such…such…such a coward!"

"You're not a coward…"

"I…I…I…just…just stood and…and watched! I…I...did n-nothing!"

Greg rubbed her back.

"What's going on?" Aunt Ginny asked, coming down the stairs in a bathrobe, her hair askew.

"D-dad...and…and mum…and…they fought…and….and the vase….and I-I d-did no-nothing!"

"Where's Hugo?"

"H-home…"

"You just _left_ him there?"

Rose started crying louder.

"I-I didn't kn-know what t-to do!"

"It's ok," Greg muttered, still rubbing her back. She continued to sob.

"I'm going over there now," Aunt Ginny said tersely.

"D-do you h-have your w-wand?"

Aunt Ginny nodded once and disapparated. Lily came down the stairs, dressed in a tank top and shorts, looking extremely confused. Al followed suit in a pair of light blue pajama pants and without a shirt. No one said a word. Rose just leaned against Greg, crying.

Within five minutes, Hugo walked through the fireplace fully dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a tee-shirt. Scratching the back of his head, he crossed the room and sat next to Al where he picked up a book left haphazardly on the end table. Rose watched him, awed, as he devoured the book with a vivacity she had never seen him possess. He seemed detached, aloof, almost indignant as he turned page after page, ignoring those around him. Al just watched him with a bit of concern tampering his eyes.

Within half of an hour, Aunt Ginny and her mum apparated into the kitchen. They didn't come out. Rose just stared at the floor.

"There's a quidditch game on today," James said after about an hour. "The pre-game's probably on, now."

"Shit," Rose groaned. "I have to go to work."

"Skip it," James said, shrugging.

"No, I can't…Chris'll know."

James gave her a pointedly disapproving look.

"You aren't going to work," Aunt Ginny said, coming out of the kitchen with a tray of muffins. "You're staying here. At least until we get all of this sorted out. Do you understand?"

"I…I'm supposed to meet Chris for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron…" Rose said, not fully understanding what her aunt was telling her.

"Fine, you can leave for that, but I don't want you pushing yourself today, understand? You've already had quite the morning."

Hugo noisily turned the page of his book.

"Oh, yes!" Greg said, jumping up from the couch. "The Cannons against the Harpies!"

"Harpies," Rose said immediately. "Wood'll crush all the Cannon chasers. Cannons suck this year."

James glanced over at her, a look of surprise evident on his face.

"I may be obstinate," Rose said. "But I'm not ridiculous."

"I know a few people who would challenge that," Hugo muttered from the other side of the room.

"Shove it, you."

Hugo did.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

As soon as she saw him, Rose wrapped her arms tightly around Chris, pressing her cheek into his chest and inhaling deeply. He smelled like he usually did, a generic cologne. She didn't mind it as much as other girls did.

"Why weren't you at work?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, not letting go of him.

"Ok." He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close. "Are you hungry?"

"Not particularly."

"You want to watch the game?"

She looked up at him, a grin on her face.

"I'll take that as a yes?"

"Always."

3

Hugo discarded another book.

"Do you have anything else?" he asked Al, stretching out on the couch.

Al tossed him another book, which Hugo began devouring. Rose stared listlessly at the television, watching a ridiculous cartoon about a muggle. Ugh…it was so unrealistic it was giving her a stomach ache.

"Rose," her mum said. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"No."

"Hugo?"

"Nnyrg. Busy." He waved her off. She nodded and slipped back into the kitchen where Aunt Ginny was doing something or other. James threw himself on the couch next to Rose, Fred sat down on her other side.

"Heard what happened," Fred said, his voice low.

"Yeah?" Rose didn't care.

"Mhmm."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She glanced at Fred. Yeah, like she would _ever_ do that.

"Nope."

"It's botherin' you," James said, idly putting his feet on the coffee table.

"Get your feet off of there, James Sirius Potter!" Aunt Ginny snapped from the kitchen. He slid his bare feet off the table.

"I know," she admitted. "But I'm not talking to you about it."

"Then who?" James pressed. "If not us, then who?"

Rose ignored them, putting all of her attention towards the cartoon.

"I don't know," she muttered, her hands clenched.

"You need to talk to someone," Fred said, his gentle tone much easier to take than James's grating one.

"I know." She pressed her lips together, trying to see what the muggle fool was doing now.

"Ok, so long as you know."

"Rose, do you want to go to a game on Saturday?" James asked suddenly.

"Can't. I'm going with Chris."

3

The wind tossed Rose's honey hair in her face and she laughed, loving every second of it. She looked down on the quidditch pitch, exultation surging through her body.

"These are amazing seats, Chris!" she yelled above the roaring crowd, following the Tornado beaters with her eyes.

"What was that?" he yelled back.

"These are amazing seats!" she said.

"I still can't hear you! Talk in my ear!"

She looked towards him and he was closer than she thought, bending over slightly so she could reach him. Grinning, she reiterated the statement clearly in bearable tones.

"I know," Chris said, his lips closer to her own ear. "I thought you would like them."

"I love them."

He kissed her lightly on the cheek and wrapped his arm around her, the two of them standing over the railing, both of them wearing bright blue tee-shirts and jeans.

3

"I need a new pair of pants," Greg said, walking up to the desk of the supply shop with an air of superiority.

"Oh, hey, Greg. What size?" Rose said, looking up from her magazine.

"Er…large, I think."

"Okay, I'll just check to see what we have in the back."

She slipped from the desk and meandered through the storage room until she came across the boxes of new merchandise that had not been stocked yet. She rummaged through them and pulled out three pairs of black pants -- medium, large, and extra large. Just in case the large didn't fit him quite right. She put the three pairs of pants on the counter in front of Greg.

"Uh…three?"

"Try them on," Rose said, absently scratching her neck. "New brand. Can't get the old one anymore. They run a bit bigger."

"I'm…uh…I don't really know how these are supposed to fit..."

"Well, then, put them on and I'll tell you. I don't work at a quidditch supply shop for nothing, you know."

"Isn't there, like, a guy around that can help me with this?"

"Nope. It's just me today. Tough luck."

"Maybe I'll just come back another time."

"Put on the bloody pants, Greg. It isn't like I'm going to rape you or anything."

Tentatively, Greg took the pants off the counter.

"The dressing rooms are in the back."

"Hmm…thanks."

He disappeared for a few minutes and came back out with a pair on. She knew they were the extra large. They were loose on him.

"Smaller," I said.

"But the other ones are tight."

"They're supposed to be tight. In fact, I think you might need the medium. Those are the extra larges?"

"…Yeah…"

"Go put on the mediums."

"Put they're going to…ah…" He made a face. "Squeeze my package." His face flushed red.

Rose looked at him blankly for a minute.

"Ugh, never mind. I'll come back later."

"No, no, it's fine. I know what you're saying. Guys have been saying that since I started working here. They're specifically loose in the crotch, in case you haven't noticed."

"But won't it be…um…more restrictive on the smaller pants?"

"Try on the bloody pants and then tell me. I know I'm an _expert_ and all that, but honestly? You expect me to fully understand men's quidditch undergarments? Just try them on."

"Alright, alright," he muttered, slipping back into the dressing room. He grunted and made some noises of annoyance, but eventually he came out with his legs tightly sheathed in a pair of black pants.

"Good," she said, walking around him. They made his ass look really nice.

"I don't like them."

"Why?"

"I…I don't know. I just don't."

"What isn't there to like about them? They're broom pants. They go under your robes."

"I…I still don't like them."

"They're supposed to prevent chaffing. Anything looser is just going to chaff more. Plus the fabric is very…uh…anti-chaffing?"

"You sure?" He looked down at the pants. "I feel like I'm wearing tights."

"They fit you perfectly."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! You're more insecure than a Hufflepuff with acne."

"Alright, alright…"

He slid back into the dressing room and Rose returned to the counter, leaning over the magazine she had propped up on the register. Idly, she flipped through the pages, hoping to find something that could catch her attention. Nothing did. Greg slapped the pants on the counter and took some coins out of his pocket.

"Three galleons," Rose said, pulling up a plastic bag from behind the counter.

"Here." Greg slid the coins across the table. Rose handed him the bag. "Hey…um…are you doing ok?"

"What?"

"I…I heard what happened with your dad…"

"Oh." Rose's hands clenched under the counter. She was going to kill Fred and James.

"I understand," he said, his voice low and his eyes wide. "My…my dad used to…um…" He shrugged. "You know. He left when I was eight. So, if you want to talk…"

"Thanks, but I'm fine," Rose said quickly, cutting him off.

He nodded once and left, the bag under his arm.

She was going to kill James and feed him to Fred.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

"Where have you been?" her mum demanded, the bags under her eyes even more pronounced than usual.

"I was out with Chris," Rose replied flatly, slipping down the hallway to her room.

"You, Hugo, Uncle Harry and I need to have a talk right now, so if you wouldn't mind putting on some real clothes…"

"I am in real clothes, mum."

"Sweat pants and a ratty tee-shirt are not real clothes."

"It isn't like I'm going to meet the minister of magic," Rose replied.

"No, but you do have to go into the ministry. So, if you wouldn't mind, please put on some decent clothes. Please."

Her mum looked worn, the circles under her eyes betraying her state more than her frizzy hair or sallow cheeks. These past few weeks had been hard on her. They had been hard on everyone. In fact, Albus was getting worried about Hugo, wondering if he really should be reading as much as he is.

"Fine," Rose muttered, slipping into her room. "Are jeans ok?"

Her mum sighed.

"So long as they're _nice_, Rose."

"Alright, mum."

She flipped through her closet and pulled out her "nice" jeans and a cute blouse. Throwing on a pair of pumps, she met Hugo in the hallway. He wore his "nice" jeans, too, though they were a tad short on him, and had his black shoes and a button-down shirt.

"Oh, Merlin, Hugo," their mum said, sounding highly exasperated. He looked up from his book. "Do you have any longer pants?"

"Umm…." He looked down at himself and shrugged.

"Give me your shirt to iron. I'll get you some new pants."

"I'm not wearing dad's pants," Hugo said quickly, the words carrying much venom.

Mum pressed her lips together, clearly displeased.

"Give me your shirt," she repeated. "Are you wearing matching socks?"

"Um…" Hugo lifted up his pants. He had one gray and one blue.

"Go put on the same colored socks, at least, eh?"

She took his shirt and went off into the laundry room.

"Hugo!" she called through the house as Rose bent over the sink with a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth.

"Uhuh?" he said.

"I'm going to need to trim your hair before we go, too!"

"Aw, come on, mum!"

"No! You're wearing short pants, the least you can let me do is trim your hair!"

"But I have this whole shaggy thing going on!"

"No! Absolutely not!"

"Mu-um!"

"Ronald Hugo!"

Sighing, Rose threw her hair in the bun Victoire taught her to do when she was younger. It took her three tries to get it right and could have gone a few more if she was holding herself to Vicky's standards. When she went into the kitchen, her mum was magically shearing off her brother's hair rather haphazardly. If it kept up this way, then he would be left without any hair at all. At least, Rose highly doubted he would. Her mum wasn't known for her ability at finesse work. Hugo squirmed in his chair, wincing at the shears by his ear.

"All done. Go put on your shirt," their mum said, flicking her wand and collecting the bits of hair all over the place. Hugo rubbed his hair, bits of stray strands fluttering to the ground.

"Rose, get your wand," her mum said, straightening her white blouse.

"Why do I need my…"

"Just go get it, Rose."

She went into her room and took it out of the narrow box Uncle Percy had given her for her fourteenth birthday. It felt odd in her hands, as if it was rejecting her, as if it didn't want her. She stared at the sliver of Ash, grief grabbing hold of her even though she had no idea why. Her hand trembled as she looked at it, as she felt it grow warm in her hand, as her chest tightened painfully.

"Rose?" Hugo was at the door, a comb in one hand.

"Yeah?" she asked, her voice weak.

"Are you ok?"

She stared at the wand, tears beginning to rise in her eyes. No. She wasn't ok. She bit back the bitter tears, swallowed, and forced the wand shakily into her pocket. Her breathing was still heavy, her head still aching. Hugo came up behind her, now almost a full head taller than her, and wrapped his arms around her, tightly, holding her close. Rose stood stiff, forbidding herself from allowing his embrace to comfort her, mentally pulling away from him, not letting herself feel him, not letting herself be vulnerable in front of him.

"Rose? Hugo? What're you…" Their mum paused in the doorway and sighed. "Come on, guys. We have to go. Hugo, do you have your wand?"

"Yeah."

He slouched down the hallway, his hand lodged in his pocket. Rose strutted after him, her jaw set and lips puckered.

"Into the floo with the two of you," their mum said, offering them the pouch of powder.

3

Rose sat down in Uncle Harry's office, her hands gripping the arms of the chair with their usual tightness. Hugo slumped down next to her, sliding down in the chair until the back of his head was resting on the back of the chair, his legs fully extended before him.

"Sit up, Hugo," their mum chastised, settling down gracefully in her own chair on his other side. Reluctantly, Hugo slid himself up. "Hello, Harry."

"Hey," Uncle Harry replied. "You know Draco, Hermione."

"It's been a while," she said, her voice a bit strained.

The blonde standing behind Uncle Harry nodded once, a grim look on his rather handsome face -- handsome at least for an older man. Rose thought he would have looked like a god at Hogwarts. Probably played seeker, based on his build. She narrowed her eyes and looked at him critically. Slytherin. There was no doubt about that. His hand hovered over his wand like he played a part in the war. Just like Uncle Harry, her dad, her mum, Ginny, and all her uncles. Rose didn't trust him.

"This is Mr. Malfoy, Rose and Hugo," Uncle Harry said.

"Hmm," Mr. Malfoy said. "He looks more like Ron than Ron."

Hugo stiffened.

"Yeah, he does. A whole lot smarter in the head, though," Uncle Harry said, chuckling. Hugo eased up.

"That's good to know," Mr. Malfoy said and idly yawned. "Can't have any more boars running around."

Their mum glared at him, her eyes hardening into balls of fire.

"Hermione, you need to go with Draco to…work some things out. I'll talk with Hugo and Rose."

"Harry, I…"

"It'll be fine. I promise. They're both smart kids. They'll understand."

Reluctantly, their mum stood up from the chair, her hand hovering over her wand, and followed Mr. Malfoy out of the room.

"Alright," their uncle said, leaning forward across the desk. "I need to tell you guys something."

"Our father is an auror?" Hugo blurted out, his words more of an acusation than a question.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hugo," Rose said. "He works at the joke shop."

"No he doesn't. Have you ever noticed how when Uncle Harry goes away, dad goes away on a business trip?" Hugo turned to face her.

"What? That's ridiculous." Rose crossed her arms.

"Yeah, and whenever he gets injured, it's always a ministry owl that comes to tell mum? And how mum is always upset when he goes and so relieved when he gets back? Did you notice he's been through three wands in the past…six years? How he usually has some kind of wound that needs caring to? How Uncle George always pulls extra shifts during the summer, when the auror season is at its peak? Jim knows. Doesn't he? That's why he and Freddie are always willing to work the Hogsmeade shop, because my dad isn't there? I have a feeling mum's going to make him quit, though. This last one...it wasn't normal…what happened to him?" He looked to Uncle Harry, his blue eyes cast with fear and trepidation.

"You're…you're being ridiculous, Hugo," Rose snapped, crossing her arms stubbornly. "Dad can't even cook with a wand, never mind kill anyone."

"Wow," Uncle Harry said, leaning back in his chair. "You really are a Ravenclaw, aren't you, Hugo? More like your mum every year, if you ask me. Though the way you handled the situation…I'd have put you in Gryffindor in a heartbeat."

"I don't want to be in Gryffindor," Hugo said tersely. "And I don't appreciate the way you tried to hide this from us." He was serious now, his eyes narrowed and piercing, his body leaning forward in his chair. "Why did he hide?"

"To protect you," Uncle Harry said and sighed. "He insisted on it. Said it would be better if you two didn't know. That it would ease your…worries."

"Wait!" Rose said, putting a hand up. "So he _is_ an auror?" She stared at Uncle Harry, hoping the confirmation wouldn't come. He gave her a decisive nod and she sat back in her chair.

"The signs were there," Hugo said. "How could you not see them?"

"Shove it, you," Rose said, crossing her arms indignantly. Her own father keeping secrets from her. Things just didn't get much worse than that. And Hugo knew! Her mum knew. She was the only one who didn't. Did they not think her strong enough? Pfft. Probably. After the way she reacted to her dad's…outburst.

"Hugo, please," Uncle Harry said.

"So what happened?" Hugo pressed.

Uncle Harry sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Your father was hit with a curse. Not a good one, either. It's…made him paranoid, made him think all his fears are real. And…your father has a few very tragic fears. A few not so tragic, but most of them…most of them involve you two and Voldemort. He's going to stay in St. Mungo's until we can clear this up. He won't hurt either you or your mum. Ok? I promise."

"How long?" Hugo demanded.

"We don't know."

"Forever?"

Uncle Harry looked him in the eye, his green eyes glistening with tears behind his glasses.

"We don't know," he whispered, his words grating Rose's ears.

"Do you know who did it?" Hugo was still as a statue.

"Yes."

"And?"

"We're working on it, Hugo. These things take time. Often, more time than we have. This isn't a life-threatening situation. He'll live to a ripe old age. It's just…he's not all there right now…I'm sorry, guys. I should have…I should have seen it sooner…"

"It's a unique curse, right?"

Uncle Harry nodded.

"Then it isn't your fault. You didn't know."

Rose was cold. None of it was making much sense. None of it felt right. It was as if she was submerged into another world, one shrouded with mystery and secrets, one she did not belong in.

"Rose," Uncle Harry said. "I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter," Rose said, her voice distant even to her.

"It'll be alright…"

"When do we get to see him?" Hugo asked, his voice the same demanding tone he began with.

"You don't," Uncle Harry said firmly.

"Why not?"

"We're going to see how he handles being with your mum, and then go from there. Ok? I have a feeling it isn't going to be well. Just so you guys know. When Charlie…not even Charlie could…"

He shook his head and didn't finish.

"Do you know how it happened?" Hugo asked, his tone giving away his trepidation.

"No one's certain."

Hugo nodded and slid down in his chair, retreating into his own thoughts. Rose just stared at Uncle Harry. How could this be going on without her noticing? How could they keep this from her?

"When you guys are ready to leave, let me know. I'll take you back to your place to get your clothes, but then you're going to Shell Cottage for a few days."

"Why Shell Cottage?" Hugo asked, obviously not thrilled with the idea.

"Your mum is going to need a few days…to process…without having to worry about you two. Alright? I've already talked to Dom and Ted, Hugo, and they agreed to spend some time there so you aren't out numbered by women again. And Vick said she'd try to be there when she could, Rose."

"I don't intend to spend much time there," Rose said stiffly. "I have work. And Chris."

"I think you should spend a few days with your family, Rose," Uncle Harry ventured.

"I think I already have and if I take any more personal days, I'm going to get fired."

"You know they have a job for you at the joke shop."

"I don't _want_ to work at the joke shop, Uncle Harry. You know this."

"Alright, fine, fine. I get it, I get it."

"Are you sure I can't see him?" Hugo grumbled.

"Yes, Hugo." Uncle Harry stood up. "You'll be the first to know when you can, alright?"

"I'd better be." Hugo rose from his chair, pulling down the back of his shirt as he went. "Let's get this torture over with."

Uncle Harry chuckled and shook his head before leading the way to the elevator.


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

"Hey," Vicky said as soon as Rose walked through the door. Teddy was laying on the floor with Flora, the two of them laughing about something or other -- a secret joke, no doubt, between the two of them.

"Have you two gotten back together yet?" Hugo asked, throwing his duffel bag by the front door.

"No," Vicky answered simply.

"They might as well," Uncle Bill said, coming out of the kitchen with a cup of steaming tea. "They spend more time together than Dom and his latest broad."

"I just broke up with her," Dom said, a bit abashed, as he followed his dad out. "I mean, she really wasn't intelligent and had this whole thing about dragons…not good." He shook his head and started sipping his tea.

"Nice earring," Hugo said, sitting next to his older cousin.

"Better than that hair cut you got. Who did it? Your mum?"

"Yeah," Hugo admitted, rubbing his head self-consciously.

"Eh, come on, we'll fix that right up," Dom said, his own hair dyed blue to go with his punk band. "I think I have some decent scissors in the drawers upstairs. I call on Cary and she can come right down .Sound good?"

"Cary?" he asked.

"The next broad," Uncle Bill muttered, settling down on the couch.

Rose threw herself across the overstuffed chair and watched the baby change her hair to all the colors of the rainbow in order. Every now and then, Teddy would change his hair color and she would laugh. If he did anything else, though, like change the shape of his nose, she started to cry.

"Where's Lou?" Rose asked, stretching cross the chair.

"Ballet," Vicky answered, her face twitching into a smile. "I still can't figure out why he hasn't stopped. It's been offered to him several times. I mean, the kid's getting ready for his last year at home before Hogwarts. If he goes like a fruitcake, he's going to be made fun of."

"He might not go to Hogwarts," Teddy said. "Didn't he say he wanted to go to Beauxbatons?"

"I'll be surprised if he ends up there," Vicky said.

"So, Harry, is Ginny getting excited to have Lily out of the house?" Uncle Bill asked, putting his feet on the coffee table.

"I don't think she's happy, actually," Harry admitted. "She threatened having to adopt a kid. And…I'm not ok with that. I've raised three. That's plenty."

"Is she going to go back to quidditch like she talked about?"

"I don't think so. Maybe St. Mungo's, but I think she's headed back to _The Prophet_. She loved it there."

"Mmm…."

The door opened and Louis jumped gracefully through the door, a grin on his face, his legs sheathed in tight black pants and his top in a loose tee-shirt. He looked rather comical, his hair all mussed up.

"Guess what?" he asked enthusiastically, rubbing his head to make his hair even more touseled.

"What, Lou?" Uncle Bill said.

"I'm going to be a part of the London Ballet!"

Teddy stopped playing with Flora and sat up to look at him, a look of shock passing across his face. Uncle Bill almost dropped his mug of tea. Vicky started laughing.

"It's not funny!" Louis said, crossing his arms.

She just started laughing harder, gripping her stomach as she doubled over. Teddy started chuckling, too, though a bit awkwardly.

"Victoire!" Uncle Bill snapped. "Stop it. This is something your brother cares about. Congratulations, Louis."

"Hmmph. I'm going to go take a shower." He ran up the stairs, dropping his bag at the foot of them. "Dom! Get out of the bathroom!"

"Did 'oo 'ear?" Aunt Fleur asked, walking through the door with a huge grin on her face. "Louis was chosen from all zhe boys at zhe school! 'E is zhe best!"

"Yeah, mama," Vicky said. "Because being in the ballet won't completely throw off his coolness factor in Hogwarts. You know, I thought he could do it -- acclimate normal and everything. But ballet? Come on. Even you must know it's a killer."

"Do not ruin zhis for your brozher, Victoire!"

"Fine. Ted, you want to go to the zoo now? Rose, you want to come?"

"Sure."

"And Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"I have tickets for the game on Saturday, if you're not doing anything."

"Err…yeah…I think that'd be fine…"

"Fantastic. Let's go before the zoo closes."

3

"You know, I'm surprised it took you so long to get us kicked out, Teddy," Vicky snapped, her cheeks splotched with red, her usually light eyes darkening to a deep navy blue.

"Look! I'm sorry, ok?"

"No! It's not ok. Got it? Bloody hell, you could have done _anything_. Anything, Teddy. Why'd you go and try and pet the damned monkey!"

"Flora thought it was funny."

"Flora's not even a year old yet!"

The baby laughed.

"Look, Vicky, I'm sorry, alright?"

"I thought it'd be nice to have little excursion to the zoo, but no. you messed it up. Ten minutes! Merlin, Teddy! We were in there for _ten minutes_ and you got us kicked out!"

"What do you want me to say, Vicky?"

"Ugh. Just go to your flat."

"Vick…"

"No, Teddy. Not right now. Flora's falling asleep anyway."

"Fine. I'll see you around."

"Yeah."

3

"So are you getting excited for your fifth year?" Vicky asked in the concesion line, counting out knuts for some non-meltable ice cream.

"I guess so."

"It's a lot of work."

"I know."

"Do you know who's prefect yet?"

"Not me."

"Do you have your letter?"

"No."

"It could be you."

"It won't be, though."

"You've never been in trouble."

"Here's your ice cream."

"Thanks."

"So, why won't you be prefect?"

"Everyone knows I am…was…the brains behind Fred and Jim. There's no avoiding it."

"True, true. But you aren't anymore."

"Nope. I've cut my losses."

"You're with Chris?"

"Yep."

"Tell me about him."

They settled into their seats -- not terribly good ones, but good enough for a Harpies game.

"Well.."

"Oh, come on, Rose. It isn't like I'm going to snitch on you to your mother."

"I know, but…"

"Alright. Fine. House?"

"Ravenclaw."

"Hot?"

" Very hot, actually."

\

"Is he, like, prefect, captain, just a smart guy, what?"

"Prefect. Captain of the quidditch team. I think he's going to be head boy, but I'm biased. Top of his class."

"Impressive. Why else do you like him?"

Rose glanced at her older cousin. Why would she want to even know all of this? It wasn't like she was going to change her mind about anything. It wasn't like they told each other everything anymore. It wasn't like she cared.

"Why do you want to know?" Rose asked.

"Just curious, is all." Victoire shrugged.

Rose glanced nervously at Victoire.

"Fine, fine, you don't have to answer." Victoire took a bite of her ice cream. "But…have you done anything…questionable?"

"No."

"Going to?"

"No."

"You sound sure."

Rose glanced at her.

"I'm not your mum, you know." Victoire shifted in her seat, brushing her long hair away from her face. "And I'm nto going to tell your mum."

"You know the answer to that better than I do." Rose crossed her arms.

Vicky looked at her for a moment.

"Just be careful, will you?"

"Of course."

"Alright. Look, there's Wood!" She started screaming at her old teammate. Rose joined in.

3

Rose and Hugo stood in the doorway, staring at their mum sitting on the couch looking out the window silently.

"Go on," Uncle Harry urged, nudging their backs a bit.

Rose tentatively stepped forward, their mum looking as if she had been hit in the gut or something, the look of shock on her face unmatched by anything else.

"Hey, mum," Hugo said, his voice straining to be casual, as he walked in. "How's it going?"

"Oh, hi guys," their mum said, forcing a smile to spread across her face, her voice even more strained than Hugo's. "Did you have fun at the cottage?"

Rose nodded weakly. Their mum was not looking good. Even worse than when they left, if that was possible. Her eyes were detached, distant. Something else had happened, even if there were no physical marks to it.

"When can we go see dad?" Hugo asked, laying himself across the couch.

Their mum winced at the words.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Uncle Harry said, coming into the room and closing the door behind him. "He's struggling right now, and we don't know if he's going to get any better any time soon just hold tight, ok, Hugo?"

"Yeah," Hugo muttered, dejected, and picked up a book to start reading.

"So…so how'd it…how'd it go?" Rose asked, standing by the hallway.

"Later," their mum said dismissively, standing up. "Harry, would you like anything?"

"Oh, um…sure. Water, if you have it."

"Of course." Their mum stood up and slipped into the kitchen, Uncle Harry right after her.

Hugo looked at Rose, a horrified look taking over his face.

"What happened?" he whispered.

"Dunno," Rose muttered, looking around the house. The vase was back where it usually is, fixed. The dent in the wall was recently spackled and painted, the slight discoloration obvious.

3

Rose wrapped her arms tightly around Chris, her throat aching with impending tears and her eyes stinging with the effort of holding them back. He wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her together, pressing her against his chest.

"It's ok," he whispered, his chin resting on the top of her head. "It'll be ok."

"I-I'm such a c-coward!" she sobbed, her tears no longer restrained behind her defenses.

"Ssshhhh," Chris cooed, his hand gently smoothing her hair. "It'll be ok. It'll all be fine."

"I-I shouldn't be in G-gryffindor."

"Yes you should, Rose." Chris's hands tightened around her.

"No. No. No. No."

"It's alright, Rose."

"No."

"There's no need to…"

"I-I couldn't even d-do anything."

She stopped crying, her cheeks wet but her eyes dry.

"What do you mean, piglet?" he asked, brushing the hair out of her face.

"W-when it happened, I just stood there." She didn't look at him. "I…I dropped my wand…and just stared. Hugo came and…and…" She didn't finish.

Chris just looked at her, silent, a grim look on her face.

"I'm a terrible Gryffindor," she said, looking up at him meekly.

"Yes, you are," he admitted.

Rose felt like someone had pulled the ground from beneath her, like she was falling.

"But you're my terrible Gryffindor, Rose," Chris said, his hand cupping her cheek. He smelled nice and his hands were warm. He kissed her gently on the lips. She looked up at him, her heart swelling with joy despite her grief and gave him a small smile. He chuckled and kissed her again, holding it longer this time. He broke again, Rose feeling as if she would explode, and then kissed her once more.

"Hey!" Nick, one of their coworkers, shouted. "Get a room!"

"Go shove a duck up your ass!" Chris replied, the vein in his neck beginning to bulge. He kissed her once more, quickly, and pulled away permanently. "I've got to go stock shelves." He disappeared into the store room.

Rose leaned against the wall for a few seconds, trying to get her wits about her before going back onto the floor. Taking a deep breath, she stood on her own feet and resumed work.

3

"Can you pass me the corn?" Hugo asked, his mouth full of chicken.

Rose grabbed the bowl and passed it to him.

"Are you feeling ok?" He piled corn onto his plate. "You haven't eaten anything."

"I'm just not hungry."

Hugo shrugged and poked his chicken.

"Is this ok to eat?"

"Should be."

"I'm not so sure."

"Stop being so dramatic and just eat the chicken."

Hugo shoved corn in his mouth.

"You sure you ok?"

"Yes, Hugo. And don't eat with your mouth open."

He chomped with his mouth open in typical little brother fashion.

"If mum were here, she'd smack you for that."

"So would dad. But they aren't."

Rose rolled her eyes and cleared her plate.

"Don't eat the rest of the corn, save it for mum. She's going to be hungry when she gets home.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he muttered waving her off and finishing off the second to last piece of chicken.

3

Greg leaned over the counter and stared at Rose. Rose glanced up from her magazine and twitched her eyebrow.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice rather flat.

"I want a pair of scissors to trim my broom."

"Over there in the corner." She nodded towards the back wall.

"It's too high for me to reach."

"So you think I can reach it?"

Greg looked at her expectantly.

"Ugh. You're impossible. Chris!"

"Yeah?" He poked his head out of the back of the closet, his blue robes swirling around his feet.

"Greg needs your help."

"Oh, ok. What do you need help with?"

"Getting something off a shelf."

"Ah, ok. Scissors?"

"Yep."

"I'll be right back."

"So how are you doing, Rose?" Greg leaned back on the counter, keeping his voice low.

"I'm fine, Greg."

She turned the page, trying to get the latest on Wood and the Harpies.

"Hugo?"

"Fine."

"Seriously, if you need to…"

"Here're your scissors."

Chris angrily slapped them on the table, the sound resounding through the store.

"One galleon and three knuts, please."

Greg slid the money onto the counter and Rose took it.

"Now get out," Chris growled, his tone nothing less than life threatening.

Greg scampered out of the store and down the street, his head down.

"He's so annoying sometimes," Chris muttered, shaking his head.

"Yeah."

"He needs to learn his place."

Rose nodded and turned the page.

"Are you even listening to me?"

She looked up at him, his face was red and his eyes narrow.

"Of course, Chris. You were talking about how he needs to learn his place. I agree."

He snorted and nodded his head before going out back to review the stores again. Rose watched him go, a grin teasing her lips. There was just something about that possessiveness…


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Hugo sat in the couch and watched as Rose paced back and forth, her hands shoved in her jeans, and her head focused on the floor.

"Will you chill out?" he demanded. "You're making me nervous."

"Shove it. Are you sure you can handle this on your own?"

"Positive."

"Bloody hell. I wish he would just get here already." She gritted her teeth and sat down opposite Hugo.

"You left pasta in the cabinet, right?"

"Yes, and make sure you leave enough for mum when she gets home."

"Why's she been working so much lately? It's starting to annoy me."

"Busy season."

"No it isn't."

"Well, I don't know. Probably because of dad."

Hugo shifted at the mention of their father.

"Hey, why don't you go to the burrow tonight?"

"Al is having some of the older students over and they never like it when a younger student butts in."

"What about Lily?"

He looked at me blankly for a minute.

"She's at Molly's."

"Dom?"

"Work."

"Uh…Lou?"

"Like I would hang out with a bloody ballerina."

"Well I don't know."

"I think he just got here."

"What? Are you sure? Damn it! Where's my purse? Is my hair ok? What about my make-up? I didn't put too much on, right? Do I look casual enough?"

"For Merlin's sake, Rose. You're wearing cannon's tee-shirt and worried about whether or not your _hair_ looks decent? What are you on?"

"Seriously, Hue, where's my bag?"

"Like I keep track of your stuff."

He didn't move an inch. She scanned the room, searching in a panic for the thing. It was on the couch. She grabbed it and made sure she had everything she needed. He knocked on the door. She took a deep breath and answered, a grin on her face. He was wearing a tornadoes tee-shirt and a pair of ratty jeans. .

"Hey, Rose," he said. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah. Hugo, you sure you're ok?"

"Mhm!"

"Hold on tight. We're apparating."

3

Chris bit into his hotdog, his cheeks pulled into a grin. Rose licked the ketchup off her lips and put down her hotdog.

"Are you sure this was a good idea?" she asked, inhaling the sweet summer air.

"What? You don't like muggle parks? I always see couples out here and always think its awkwardly romantic."

"Do you, now? I wouldn't have thought you were the romantic, Chris."

"No?"

"No."

"What? Do I seem more like the forthright type?"

"Well…"

He chuckled and shook his head.

"Let's just say I'm not a _hopeless_ romantic, eh? And then we can avoid this conflict. What do you say?" He looked at Rose with that glint in his eye that made her crazy for him.

"Sounds good to me."

"Good."

He kissed her on the cheek and got back to his hotdog. Rose couldn't help but smile at the sight of a couple walking by hand in hand. Her hand found its way to Chris's thigh and stayed there, loving the warmth radiating through his shorts. His hand fell on top of hers, squeezing slightly. Trying to keep a level head, Rose finished her hotdog.

3

"How was it?" Hugo asked, his lanky body strewn across the couch.

"Fine," Rose answered simply, dropping her bag at the front door. She looked at him twice and furrowed her eyes. Something didn't look right.

"Eat enough?"

"Uh…yeah…what did you do?"

"Went to the Burrow."

Rose grinned, realizing what it was, exactly, that was off.

"Lucy and Roxy get to you?"

He glanced up at me, a look of alarm on his face.

"How did you…?"

"You missed a good bit of eyeliner, kid. You might want to try washing again."

"Shit!" He slid off the couch and ran down the hallway.

"Is mum home yet?"

"Nope! Ugh! Why won't this come off!"

"Did they use semi-permanent?"

"What?"

He skidded to a halt in the living room.

"Semi-permanent eyeliner, did they use it?"

"Shit! I hope not, those fucking ass-holes!"

He dashed back to the bathroom. Rose shook her head and laid down on the couch, tucking her hands behind her head. He wouldn't dare swear like that if mum was around.

"Do you know how late mum'll be?" Rose called to him.

"No! Damn it! Can you come in here?"

Reluctantly, Rose stood up, stretching her neck, and walked slowly down the hallway. Let him struggle for a few moments. It'd do him good.

"Rose! It won't come off!"

She turned the corner and saw Hugo standing in front of the sink, water dripping down the front of his shirt and his hair all soaked from trying to get the eyeliner off.

"It isn't going to come off unless you magic it off."

"Well, can you magic it off?" He turned to her, his eyes flashing with desperation.

"I'm still underage, Hugo," she said, scratching the back of her head.

"Is there any other way?"

"Wait a few days."

"I'm supposed to be going to the dragon expo with Dom and Uncle Charlie tomorrow! How can I go looking like this?"

Rose shrugged.

"Dress goth?"

"Ugh, Goth? You think I _have_ goth?"

"When was the last time you checked?"

Rose wandered into the kitchen and pulled the orange juice out of the refrigerator. She could hear Hugo angrily rummaging through his clothes, various things hitting the floor with a variety of different noises -- some indicating hard things such as his crystal he used for a paperweight and some soft like the pair of socks sitting on top of his dresser. He cursed loudly after a particularly loud thump. His closet door squeaked open. Rose grinned to herself, leaning against the counter, and sipped her orange juice. Chris was wonderful. He was so tall and strong and smart and just…fantastic. She took another sip.

"What about this?" Hugo stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms held slightly away from his body.

"You look more emo than goth, kid."

It was true he wore a black shirt, but it was tighter than his skin and the buttons looked as if they were going to pop off. His pants were no different, the pockets nearly inside-out with the strain of keeping his thighs inside of them. Not to mention the sleeve were about four inches too short and the pants three. She couldn't restrain her mirth.

"Ugh!" He went back into his room and Rose finished her orange juice.

3

Chris squeezed Rose's hand. She looked up at him and the nervous look on his face. Her hand tightened around her shopping bags -- new things for school -- and her brows furrowed.

"What's wrong?" she asked, ceasing to walk. She tugged Chris back next to her.

"I…I want you to know how much I love you," he whispered, his words tender and gentle.

"I know how much you love me, bear."

"I want to _show_ you how much I love you, piglet?"

"You don't need to…"

"I _want _to. I _need_ to. You wouldn't take a need away from me, would you?"

He lifted his free hand and gently traced her face down her jawline. His hands, cold even in summer, sent shivers down her spine. She grinned at him, unable to restrain her elation at physical contact.

"No," she said. "If you need something, Chris, I'm not going to deny you."

He smiled, showing his teeth, and his strong arm grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her into an ally. She went with him, unsure of what was going on. He whipped out his wand and put a few spells over the area, more likely than not ensuring their privacy, and pushed her gently against a brick wall. He took the bags from her hand and dropped them on the ground.

He pressed his lips firmly to her cheek, then to her neck, then to the left of her lips, then on her lips. She kissed him back, at first gently. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to his body. Rose wasn't sure what to do; did she continue kissing him or stop or what? But she liked what she felt, the surge of heated passion coursing through her body, the fire he lit in the pit of her stomach.

He kissed her neck and started to unbutton her shirt.

"What're you…?" she asked, her hands closing over his. He looked up at her, his eyes hurt.

"Don't you love me? Don't you want to know how much I love you?" His words were pained, tortured, and cut through the defenses Rose had. Nervously, she dropped her hands. "I won't let anything happen to you, Rose. Nothing. I promise."

"What if someone sees?"

"No one will see, piglet. I promise."

He pressed his lips to her neck again and slid down to her collar bone. She gasped slightly as his hand pressed against her breast, squeezing it softly, gently through the bra. He completely unbuttoned her shirt and kissed each of her breasts once before dropping to his knees. He kissed her stomach, every now and then gently nipping at her flesh. His hands wrapped around her bottom. Rose just waited, not wanting him to stop but wanting him to tell her what he was doing, not wanting to stand there like a fool but wanting to let him continue. She was curious. It felt good. It felt wrong.

His fingers unbuttoned her denim shorts.

"What are you doing?"

He looked up at her, a new look in his eye.

"Don't you think I love you?" he whispered, his lips almost brushing against her panties. "Don't you think I love you enough to do this?" He kissed her private through her underwear, the contact making her throat dry. Her heart pounded against her chest. Was this ok? Was he supposed to be doing this?

"Relax," he groaned and kissed the elastic band of her panties. "I won't hurt you. I love you. Love you."

Her father would be furious a boy was taking off her shorts, sliding them slowly over her hips, letting them fall at her ankles. He would be angry that she was letting him touch her like this, tenderly, lovingly, wonderfully. He would be angry that he was sliding her panties down her knees, that he was kissing her, that he was spreading her legs, that he was…

She gasped. His tongue licked between her legs, making her knees weak and her constitution fade. Her head pounded with the ecstasy, her heart throbbed against her ribcage, her vision blurred. He slipped his fingers into her. Her labored breathing caught in her throat at the completely foreign yet completely wonderful feeling. She whimpered slightly, unsure of herself.

The feelings increased, the tension seeming to rise. She wanted more. She yearned for more. She wanted him to be more aggressive, to finish this.

Every muscle seemed to tighten at the same time, the heady feeling making her strength fade. She leaned against the wall, her palms flat against its brick surface, and struggled to breathe.

Chris pulled out of her and started to kiss her gently again -- her leg, her thigh, her naval. He pulled up her pants and buttoned them. He waved his wand and did something Rose could not comprehend. He stood up and started buttoning her shirt. Slowly. Lovingly. Caringly. He kissed her on the cheek when he was finished. Then on the lips. She kissed him back.

"That's how much I love you," he whispered, and took her hand in his. Grabbing the bags off the ground, he led the way out into the sunlight, Rose on his arm.

She didn't have to tell her father, her brother, her mother, or anyone -- she decided. Let them feel how it is to be in the dark for awhile. They've kept secrets from her, how is it any different for her to keep secrets from them? Her grip tightened on Chris's hand.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too."


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

AN: Good news; summer break. Which means, updating will, hopefully, proceed on a high level. I need to apologize now for the shear length of this fic. Its long. And getting longer by the day. Enjoy and thanks for the reviews.

3

"Who's going to win?" Fred asked.

"You _have_ to ask?" Greg asked, sprawled on the floor with his head resting on his arms so he could see the huge television sideways.

"He's illiterate, you know," Rose said, teasingly elbowing him.

"Ugh. I'm not illiterate."

"Close enough," Rose combated.

"What's gotten into you today?" James asked, looking at her cousin all confused. "First, you come over here. When was the last time you actually came over here to watch a game? And now you're making fun of Fred like old times?"

"What? I can't make fun of my cousins?" Rose crossed her arms and cocked her eyebrow in James's direction. "And, besides, you know this is a high-profile game. I can't just listen to it. And my father…mum and Hugo…they're…Hey! Greg, turn on the pregame!" She caught sight of the time out of the corner of her eye.

"What were you going to say?" Greg asked, lazily reaching over to manually change the channel because someone (James) lost the remote.

"Nothing," Rose said quickly, brushing off the topic.

"Where's Aunt Herms and Hugo?" James asked, glancing sideways at Rose.

"Um…out….doing stuff…and…yeah…."

"Rose…"

"London."

"Where in London?"

"Shut up! Wood's coming on."

"Oh, for Merlin's bloody sake!" Fred exclaimed, pushing his cousin off the couch. "No! You're not getting back up here. You can share the ground with Greg!"

Fred stretched his feet over the middle cushion. Rose rolled her eyes and sat cross legged, her eyes fixed on the screen, but her mind wandering. She couldn't really focus well. Just knowing that her brother and mum were in London, going to St. Mungo's, seeing her father, made her feel inadequate. Like she wasn't brave enough or smart enough or anything enough to see him. The only reason Hugo went was because he continued to bug their mum about it, and she finally caved. Rose hadn't even brought it up at all. Ever. It's one of those things she would like to forget.

"Shit!" Greg shouted, sitting up. "Marvel's starting? I think I'm going to vomit! She's wretched! The Tornadoes are going to lose like chickens!"

"Because they _are_ chickens," James muttered.

"No, not really," Greg said. "I mean, sure they aren't as good as they've been in the past, but honestly? They're usually better than the Harpies."

"No they aren't. The Harpies have Wood _and_ better chasers _and_ better back-up chasers…" James began.

"No. Just no. You know why? Because the Tornado starting line-up this year is so much better than everyone else's in the league."

"Yeah, but the thing is, they're not…"

Rose leaned back against the couch and drew her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. She watched the interviews on the screen but didn't pay attention. She already knew the information. It wasn't anything new, anyways. A shiver ran down her spine. She wondered what Chris was doing. She wrapped her arms around her knees. He was probably huddled in his room with his small radio, not wanting his parents or Dave to hear quidditch and remind them that he was a wizard. Her heart throbbed painfully against her chest. It wasn't right he had to hide like that. Faintly, she wondered if he could come here, if Aunt Ginny would mind. Besides, she wanted him next to her, his arm around her, his protection, his comfort.

"Rose?" Greg asked, his voice rising in a puzzled tone.

"Mmm?" She snapped out of her reverie, feeling lonely in front of the three boys.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You seem pretty out of it, today."

"No. I'm fine."

"Well, then what are you thinking of? Is there a situation we aren't realizing?" Greg folded his hands behind his head and turned to Rose, fully expecting quidditch wisdom.

"You guys don't want to hear it," she said, trying to force back the blush creeping up the back of her neck.

"Oh, come on," James said, nudging her with her socked foot.

Aunt Ginny traipsed into the room.

"Budge up, you two. My Harpies are playing. Excuse me, Rose." She settled in between Fred and James. "Greg, do you want a pillow or something?"

"No thanks, Mrs. Potter."

"Rose, come on," James said. "You have to prepare us, don't you?"

"I already told you you don't want to hear it."

"Well, if it's against the Harpies, you might want to keep it to yourself now that Aunt Gin's in the room," Fred said. Aunt Ginny smacked his arm playfully.

"Nah, it has nothing to do with the Harpies…"

"Then what it is?" Greg pressed, rolling onto his side to look at her.

"Well…ugh. No, it's nothing."

"Rose! Just say it!" Fred pressed, nudging her with his toe.

"You're being such a..such a…such a _girl_ right now," James said scornfully.

"Now, now, don't go putting ideas in her head," Fred muttered.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" Greg said.

"Hey guys. Wow. I don't think I've seen this room so full in a while. Are Ally and Frank coming over?" Lily collapsed in her chair in the corner, folding her legs elegantly underneath her.

"I'm not sure. Hannah seemed to think so, but they could have other ideas," Aunt Ginny said.

"Seriously, Rose," Greg said, his tone low. "Tell us."

"Oh, a secret?" Lily grinned and her eyes brightened in a sort of vindictive way.

"I don't…"

"Rose! Honestly? It can't be _that_ bad or I'd have already heard it from Ally who would have heard it from Frank who would have heard it from Fred who would have heard it from Tony. So, unless it's something _completely_ off the wall, I've already heard it." Lily idly picked up Al's snitch off the end table and turned it in her hands.

"She's not going to tell," James said in a resigned tone. "It must be _so_ terrible."

"No, it's…it's not terrible or anything. I just…This is one of the Tornado's biggest games, you know? And Chris…he's stuffed up in his room with a small television trying to get it in right, and it doesn't work half the time, and I just feel bad for him, is all…it doesn't seem right or something…"

"Well, go get him and bring him here. You can floo to his house," Aunt Ginny said before any of the boys could object.

"Mum!" James exclaimed. "Chris can't come _here_!"

"James, be nice. Go get him, Rose."

"Aunt Gin! You don't know what you're doing. Chris is the bane of evil!"

"Fred, isn't Rose _dating_ him?" Aunt Ginny asked, looking at him disapprovingly.

"Well…yeah…"

"So shouldn't we trust Rose's judgment?"

"Well…um…no? He's a jerk!"

"Fred, come on, now. Rose, go ahead before the game starts. If he's as much of a Tornado's fan as you say he is, then he's going to regret missing the visuals of this one."

"Are…are you sure, Aunt Gin?" Tentatively, Rose stood up, adjusting her shirt and shorts.

"Yeah, hurry up before James pins you to the ground and prevents it."

"Thanks, Aunt Gin."

Rose didn't look at any of the boys as she threw floo powder on the fire and stepped into the flames.

3

"Oh, my, Rose, what are you doing here, dear?" Chris's mum dragged her into the kitchen.

"Um…I was just wondering if Chris wanted to come over my cousin's house and watch the…uh…_game_ on their television." Rose clasped her hands together nervously, not sure how much wizarding culture his family was exposed to. His mum certainly didn't have any problems with her coming through the fireplace, so…

"Oh, he's upstairs, his ear glued to his radio, I believe. You can just go right up and interrupt him, if you like."

"Um…thanks."

"Not a problem, dear."

Rose slipped up the stairs. She stopped in front of the only closed door -- Dave was laying on his bed with some girl and an older man -- presumably Chris's dad -- was sitting at a desk in another room. The master bedroom was open and clean. That left one room at the back of the hall to the left. Tentatively, she knocked on the door. She could hear the low rumble of the radio as some of the announcers began their analysis.

"Ah, come on, mum! I've already told you…oh, hey Rose. What're you doing here? How did you _get _here?"

Chris grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room gently.

"You should have told me you were coming. I would have cleaned."

Rose looked around the simple bedroom, his white walls covered with posters of muggle movies and bands. The radio was on a stack of books on his desk and his bed was disheveled. She would not consider his room messy by any means. There wasn't even anything on the floor.

"Please, have a seat. Tornado analyst is supposed to be coming on soon."

Rose sat down on the edge of his blue bedspread. He sat down next to her and stared at the floor, his arm wrapped around her waist and his mind focused on the radio. She leaned into him, loving the warmth and the comfort and the protection.

"Do you want to come to my aunt's house and watch the game?" Rose asked while they were still doing advertisements and public announcements.

"Which aunt?" He pulled Rose tighter against him and rested his head on hers, inhaling deeply as he did so.

"Ginny."

"Ginny?"

"Uh…Potter?"

"Oh…So James will be there?"

"Greg and Fred, too…But Aunt Gin told me to get you. If I don't come back with you, then she's going to get angry. She isn't very…approachable…when she's angry."

"Ginny…Ginny…Ginny…where have I heard that name before?"

"I don't know. I think there's a third year Ginny in Hufflepuff."

"No, no, in another capacity."

"Oh, well, I don't know…"

"Is she your mother's sister?"

"Father's."

"Weasley? Ginny Weasley?" Recognition passed across his face and he jumped to his feet. "Your aunt is Ginny "Fireball" Weasley?" He put his hands on her shoulders.

"Uh…"

"Played chaser for the Harpies? Holds the most records? Writes for _The Prophet_?"

"Umm…I think she used to write…"

"Why didn't you ever _tell_ me you were related to a world-famous quidditch player?" Chris had a huge grin on his face, his eyes alight with excitement.

"I…didn't think it was that big of a deal."

"Oh, piglet," he murmured, putting his face close to hers. "You wouldn't, would you?" He kissed her hard. "Ok, I'll go." He stood up and slipped on a pair of sneakers he had waiting by the door. "I mean, if you still want me to."

"Of course I do, Chris!"

"Alright, hurry before the game comes back on. I'll aparate us in the ally across the street."

3

Chris pulled her down on top of him, her head resting in his lap. During the game, his fingers traced her features or played with her hair. During the commercials, he looked down at her, his warm brown eyes grinning at her even though his face was impassive.

"Sorry about Marvel," Rose whispered, catching his hand in hers.

He offered a strained grin and sighed.

"It's ok," he said, gently kissing the back of her hand. "Next time, we'll get them."

"Hey, have you gotten your Hogwarts letter yet?"

He grinned genuinely, a spark in his eye that Rose doubted could ever be extinguished.

"You got it?"

Hope, excitement, and pride swelled in her chest. He nodded quickly, his cheeks blushing red. Rose pulled herself up and kissed his lips. He caught her and kissed her himself, a bit aggressive for being on her aunt's floor even if they were the only two in the room. He pulled her on top of him, his hands reaching around her waist and squeezing her bottom.

"Chris…we can't do this…"

"Get your hands off of her!" James howled from the bottom of the staircase.

"Shit," Rose muttered as she tried to get off Chris.

"Don't move, piglet," Chris whispered. "We're both old enough to be getting…"

"Rose!" Aunt Ginny snapped.

Rose grimaced.

"Chris, we aren't going to win this fight."

Chris loosened his grip on her waist and Rose slipped off him.

"Chris, go home before I let a bludger loose on you. Rose, you'd better prepare yourself for when your mother gets wind of this!"

Chris stood up, brushed off his clothes, gave Rose a grin and a shrug, and left out the front door without a word. Rose hoisted herself onto the couch and crossed her arms, preparing herself for a talk.

"What do you think you were doing? He's two, _two_, years older than you," her aunt said, her ears turning bright red. "You should know better than that, Rose. Do you know what he was thinking about? Do you know what he wants to do with you?"

Rose's jaw clenched and her eyes turned to the TV still playing the post-match interviews. Was Marvel gloating about something?

"What's going on?" Greg asked, standing slightly behind Jim.

"Rose was the snogging the fuck out of Chris," James said through gritted teeth. Greg visibly stiffened and stared at Rose, his eyes wide, before going back upstairs, each of his steps deliberate.

"Oh, Rose," Aunt Ginny sighed, running her hand through her hair. "What are we going to do with you?"

"Let me rot."

"You're going back to Hogwarts in a week and this is the sentiment you leave us with? With you…getting intimate…with a boy?"

"He's not _just_ a boy. He's Chris."

"Rose, you're too young…"

"Well, you don't have the authority to…"

"You're going to get yourself in trouble, you know."

Greg noisily walked into the room, his heavy footsteps unmistakable.

"Rose," he said sternly. "I need to talk with you."

"Oh, come on! Why can't you all just admit I'm in a serious relationship!"

"Now, Rose," Greg growled, his arms crossed over his chest and his backpack slung over his shoulder. Rose rolled her eyes and stood up. "We're going out back."

Greg led the way outside and Rose leaned idly against the back door, watching Greg stare at her with a nervous look on his features.

"Look, I know what he did," Greg said, his tone low. He squared his shoulders toward her and his body seemed tense. "I know he…he took advantage of you."

"He didn't take advantage of me," Rose refused.

"Told you that he loved you? That he wanted to show you? Did…did stuff to you without asking? Yeah, he took advantage of you."

Rose stared at Greg, speechless, feeling the blush creep up her neck.

"It's going to get worse. I know him. He doesn't _care_, ok? All he cares about is getting in your pants, Rose. He couldn't care less about you."

"You're such a liar…"

"No I'm not. I've seen him go through more girls in a month than James has been through in all his life. No, don't give me that look. I live with the guy. It's a new girl every month. Hell, he's even bedded a few while dating you. He really really really must want you or he wouldn't have stayed with you…"

"Or he really does love me."

"Rose, please…"

"No, Greg!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" He kicked the patio furniture, sending a chair skidding across the patio. "Do you understand? He's going to use you up and spit you out! He's going to abuse you, Rose! He doesn't give a fucking shit about you or what you think. Do you get that? Do you understand? He's going to…Fuck! He's going to hurt you! I…I don't know if…And you don't even see it. You don't see it coming. You're blind and refuse to see, Rose! You're _so_ intelligent! So smart and bright and wonderful and you're throwing it all away and you don't even know it. You don't know it Rose. I can't stand here and _watch_ you self-destruct. I can't….I just…I…"

"Greg," she said, her body tense. "You don't have the authority to tell me what I can and cannot do."

"Hey! Hold on, now…"

"And you should be ashamed. No. Don't talk, you bastard. You should be _ashamed_ that you're placing this slander on your fellow housemate."

"Rose! That's not it! You're missing the…"

"You're just as bad as Fred and James."

She turned back into the house, Greg following after her.

"Rose, you can't do this. You _have_ to break up to him before it escalates into something…"

"Stop, Greg." She turned around and came face to face with his chest a whole lot closer to her face than she expected.

"Stop what? Trying to _help_?"

"Stop being more overprotective than James and Fred combined. I love Chris. I don't care what you think about him. Everyone knows you're jealous of him, anyway. It's not like I trust your judgment."

Greg stared at her, his mouth slightly open, as she threw powder on the fire.

"Sometimes a girl's gotta learn on her own, Greg," she heard Aunt Ginny say before she was sucked up the chimney.


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

"Hugo, do you have all your books?" their mum asked, trying to attend to a sizzling pan of bacon and Hugo's lack of preparation at the same time.

"Um…I think so," Hugo said, leaning back in his chair and sipping his coffee.

"Go check, please," their mum said. She sighed and flipped the bacon. "Rose, go try on your uniforms."

"Ungh." Rose sipped her coffee instead, staring at the half-finished piece of toast in front of her.

"Mum, I'm missing a potions book," Hugo said, slipping back into his chair.

"Ugh. Did you check your trunk?"

"Yep."

"Drawers?"

"Yep."

"Search through all your bookshelves?"

"Yep."

"Under the bed?"

"Umm…no?"

"Go check. Rose, go try on your uniforms. I'm not asking you again."

"Later," Rose muttered unintelligibly, bringing her mug to her lips.

"It's not there."

"Hugo! What in the world did you _do_ with it?"

"I dunno. Hey, do you know where I put my book on the mistreatment of Goblins in the pre-war industrial age?"

"No, Hugo. We need to find your textbook. Rose, can you watch the bacon?"

"Yeah, sure," Rose muttered, standing up with her coffee in hand and staring into the sizzling pan. It was already burned. She flicked the bacon onto a plate and stuck it on the table for when her mum and Hugo got back from their quest.

"Hugo! What did you do with it?"

"I dunnno, mum. Maybe it's in the sitting room bookcase?"

"Did you check there?"

"Well…no…"

"Go check. We need to be at Uncle Bill's in…ten minutes ago! Rose! Are you ready to go?"

"Ungh."

"Go get ready and floo to the cottage, will you? Hugo! Get your hand out of the cookie jar you know Aunt Fleur will have more than enough sweets…"

"Is Aunt Gin bringing her cakes?"

"I don't know. Go get find your book and you can go find out."

Rose shook her head and slipped into her room to change for the last big party of the summer.

3

"Do you have everything you need?" her mum asked from her doorway, the woman's hands clenched nervously together.

"Uh…yeah."

"Alright, good. Bring your stuff to the sitting room. Harry will be here soon to pick you up."

"Wait…aren't you bringing us?" Rose stood up, feeling a sense of disappointment she wasn't expecting clinging to her heart.

"Um…no…I can't I have a…a case at ten…so I can't…um…Hugo!" She turned from the doorway, her eyes not resting in one spot for more than a few seconds.

Rose pulled her trunk into the sitting room and waited. Uncle Harry walked in fifteen minutes later, his cheeks flushed red.

"Where's your mum?" he asked, breathless.

"In with Hugo," Rose said tentatively.

Uncle Harry quickly walked down the hallway. Something was up. There was no way she was going to get to know what.

"Need help with that?" Albus asked, leaning haphazardly against the doorjamb, his black shorts falling below his knees and his blue polo shirt denoting him as a Ravenclaw. He ruffled his black hair and adjusted his glasses. "Well? Do you?"

"Um…yeah…thanks."

"No problem."

Albus took the trunk and grimaced as he tried to move it with his seeker body. She grinned at his efforts, knowing he didn't tone as much as he could have over the summer. Chris would change that if he had a say in anything. By the end of the year, Al was going to be able to give James a run for his money.

"You're in the front," Albus said, dragging the trunk to the back of his father's car.

"Why do I get the front?"

"Do you want to sit between James and Hugo?"

"Well, not really…"

"Then you get the front."

"Ok, then."

Rose sat in the front seat, Chris's Tornado's sweatshirt, his cologne still ingrained in the fabric, laying across her lap. She couldn't wait to see him again, his broad shoulders, his strong arms, his gorgeous face, his divine lips…

"Budge up, James," Hugo said, wriggling into the seat with his too small tee-shirt and shorts that were supposed to be as long as Al's but came up to his mid-thigh.

"Damn you got tall," James said, his eyes focused on Hugo's knees nearly coming up to his chin.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Hugo muttered, crossing his lanky arms.

"So James," Rose said, turning her head. "Are you and Fred ready to bust up the Slytherins again?"

"No, actually. Fred's ditching me, Greg, and Frank for his Antonia. Fucking bastard…"

"Watch your mouth, James," Uncle Harry snapped, slipping into the driver's seat. "And buckle your seatbelt, Hugo."

Hugo groaned but did what was asked of him. Rose sat forward in the seat and watched as her house disappeared in the side mirrors, watching her mum look at Uncle Harry's car until they turned the bend in the road.

"So, Rose," Uncle Harry said, his voice solemn and his eyes focused on the road in front of him. "I hear you and Chris are serious."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"You do realize he's two years older than you, right?"

"Yeah."

"And he's probably looking for something in your relationship that you don't want to give?"

"Uncle Harry…"

"I just want you to know that you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, ok?"

"Chris would never do anything to hurt me…"

"Not intentionally. But boys have a mind of their own."

"Chris is a smart…"

"I have heard of his previous exploits, Rose. None of them end well."

"And who have you heard them from? Greg? Hugo? Albus? Are you serious? They don't know him at all. Trust me."

"When five men of outstanding character come to me and tell me something, I don't have a choice but to believe…"

"Have you ever even met him?"

"No, but I heard what you two did on the floor of the Burrow…"

Rose rolled her eyes and looked out the window.

"And if that's any indication of your relationship, then I doubt it's much better behind closed doors, Rose Lee." His voice was hard, angry, almost furious. "You're only fifteen. I know you look older, but you aren't. You can't -- and shouldn't -- be fooling around with boys two years older than you who you know want something you can't -- and shouldn't -- be giving!" He swore loudly and honked his horn as a kid cut him off. "If your father was here right now, Rose, he would ground you and put so many wards and charms on you that if a boy so much as _looked_ at you, he'd be in the hospital wing for a full month!" He swore again and banged on his steering wheel as the kid who cut him off stopped abruptly for no apparent reason. "And if your mother knew _half_ of what I know and knew what you were doing on the floor of the Burrow…"

Fear gripped Rose. Aunt Ginny wouldn't tell Hermione -- she never did. But Uncle Harry…he couldn't keep anything from her mum.

"You aren't going to tell her are you?" Rose looked at her Uncle, her eyes wide and her heart pounding against her chest. If her mum was to find out that some Ravenclaws didn't hold Chris in high esteem, and that they were engaged on the floor of the Burrow, and that his teammates didn't approve of him, then she was dead meat. Deader than a hamburger grilled by Uncle Charlie (and those things were _dead_).

"No." Uncle Harry heaved a sigh and shook his head. "I…I can't."

Rose let out a relieved breath and looked out the window at the city beginning to rise around them. Uncle Harry pulled into the parking lot of King's Cross and Rose could see Chris lingering out front, waiting to help some muggle-borns as was his duty as headboy. She smiled at him, his headboy badge glittering in the sunlight, and he waved back. His grin told her they would meet on the train.

3

"Took you long enough," Rose teased, wrapping her arms around Chris. "Doing a good job, I hope?"

"It's not my fault a first year decided to have a melt-down," Chris replied, wrapping his warm arms around her.

"And you comforted them?" She looked up at him, her heart warming towards him.

"Naturally," he said and kissed her head lightly.

"You're amazing," she whispered.

"I know. You should get back to Greg and Jim. I need to go brief the prefects."

Rose groaned and put her forehead into his chest.

"I know, I know, piglet," he murmured, rubbing her back gently. "But as soon as we get to Hogwarts and everything settles down, we'll have more than enough time together."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He kissed her head. "Great shampoo, by the way. Breakfast tomorrow morning?"

"Of course."

"I'll see you then."

He slipped out the door and Rose sighed, wishing she could go with him.


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

"Alright," James said, leaning forward in his seat in the compartment. "We've got to do something to reclaim Fred, you know? He's been lost to the depths of a girl. We need to go retrieve him before he sinks deeper into the abyss."

"You make it sound like having a girlfriend is the worst thing in the world, Jim," Greg muttered, folding his hands behind his head.

"And it isn't?"

"No, it isn't," Rose said, sitting down in the only empty seat next to Greg and across from Frank.

"Look," Lorcan said, his languid voice sounding out of place next to James's defined words, "in order to show him, why don't we don a dress or two? Cory?"

"No dresses," James snapped, waving off the younger prankster.

"Ah, but James!" Lysander said, putting a hand on the sixth year's knee. "you must know everything's funnier in heels…"

"Please, guys," Greg said, waving off James's protégés, "You know he won't wear dresses after that quidditch incident."

"I only wear those underwear to play!" James howled, standing up. "Boxers chafe!"

"Woah!" Cory squealed, his hands covering his small ears. "Too much information!"

"Chill out, kid," Molly said from Lysander's lap. "I'm sure you'll see worse stuff during Hogwarts than James in his skivvies."

Cory groaned and leaned onto Lorcan's arm. Lorcan shoved him off. Molly stood up and changed Scamanders, perching herself on Lorcan's legs and giving him a disapproving glance.

"Play nice, Lor," she said, wagging a finger at him.

"Molly and her boys," Rose muttered.

"She's got all three of you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she?" Frank asked, a grin playing at his lips.

They all looked at each other for a second before nodding in unison.

"There isn't another way to live without your own posse of jokesters," Molly said, leaning back on Lorcan.

"Absolutely," Lorcan agreed, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't want to be under any one else's rule."

"Stop being so mushy," Molly said, putting her hands on his. "You're embarrassing me."

"Oh, come on, Mols," Lorcan said, his head inches from the back of her neck.

"Eeew," James said in exaggerated disgust. "You two get away from me. I can't stand all this _relationship_ stuff."

"That's just because you're not in a relationship," Greg said.

"Please," James continued, "I would never…"

The compartment door slid open and the seventh year Hufflepuff prefect poked her head in.

"You may want to consider getting changed soon," she said, flipping back her red hair off her face. "We're getting close to the school." She turned on her heel and bounced out of their view.

"Damn Hufflepuffs," Greg muttered. "They annoy the shit out of me."

"How can Hufflepuffs annoy you?" Rose asked, looking at him suspiciously. "Hufflepuffs don't annoy anyone. That's why they're Hufflepuffs."

"But they all…That's just it, you know? They're all the same. They all have a shitload of charisma and, if they wanted, the ability to completely control the entire populace of Hogwarts. But they don't. They're too agreeable. They refuse to have their own opinions or plans of action and just go along with whatever. They have so much potential and they don't…"

"Alright, Rose, come on," Molly said, standing up and taking her neon green bag from under Lorcan's seat.

"And they're always so _happy_! Who gave them the right to be so god-awful happy?"

"Rose, come on, we need to change," Molly pressed, grabbing Roses's wrist and beginning to drag her out.

"Why don't you just change in here?"

"In front of Cory? Are you kidding me? That kid's more of a perv than Aeolus Malfoy."

"No I'm not. You just don't want Lorcan to see you naked."

Lorcan hit him sharply in the ribs. The kid squealed and indignantly jumped three feet in the air.

"Come on," Molly repeated, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

"Alright," Rose muttered, grabbing her knapsack out from under her seat. She followed Molly into another compartment and stripped down.

"God, Cory can be ridiculous," Molly said breathlessly, pulling her tee-shirt over her head. "Sometimes, I just want to hit the guy."

"Sometimes, you got to."

"Lorcan takes care of that." She stepped into her skirt.

Rose quickly buttoned up her shirt and fastened her skirt. Molly clasped her robes over her bosom and turned to her old cousin. She could barely hold back a guffaw.

"What?" Rose asked.

"Here," Molly said, her fingers unbuttoning the first few buttons on Rose's shirt. She loosened the tie, too, and untucked the shirt. "There, that looks better."

"But…"

"Trust me, Rose," Molly said, crossing her arms. "You look like you're suffocating the way you had it. This looks more comfortable."

"But…"

"No. Beside's, no one's going to notice with your robes on, anyway."

"I look like a slob."

"You look like a fifth year. Now put on your robes and let's go. I need to make sure Lorcan tells Cory how to tie his tie right."

3

Chris wrapped his arms around Rose, his strong arms bringing her close to his body. His lips pressed onto the top of her head.

"That was so hard," he whispered, his eyes closed.

"What was?" she asked, her cheek against his chest.

"Going days without being with you."

Rose smiled and sighed contentedly.

"Come on, let's go find ourselves an abandoned classroom," he suggested, taking her by the wrist and directing her down the hallway.

3

"So what's going on with you and Chris?" Libby asked, hopping onto the end of Rose's bed.

"What do you mean?" Rose asked, putting down the book on charms Chris had given her.

"You two seem to be getting serious," she said.

"Whatever."

"You can't lie to me, you know. I have four older sisters and two older brothers. I have seen all of them fall in love, fall out of love, and fall back into love. I can tell just by the look in your eye that you've gone farther than kissing."

"That's ridicu…"

"No it isn't."

"Libby…"

"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Tony. I know neither of you have older siblings to…"

"Not you, too, Libby," Rose groaned. "As if James and Greg don't have a target on me already, now you?"

"I'm not telling you what to do," Libby said sharply. "I'm warning you. You're playing with fire right now. And if you aren't careful, it'll burn you. You need to stop feeding the fire, stoking the flame, making it bigger because then it'll be harder when you want to put it out. You know what I'm saying?"

"Why does everyone think they have the authority to tell me what to do?" Rose grumbled.

"Rose! I'm _not_ trying to tell you what to do. I'm trying to tell you you're getting in deep with a guy that you may not want to get so deep with."

"Well it's too late now…"

"Have you already had _sex_?" Libby asked, aghast.

"No!"

"Oh, ok. Have you…erm…played around a bit?" Libby cocked her head suggestively.

Rose stared at her. What could she say to that? They certainly hadn't kept their hands to themselves, but they hadn't "played around". Everything they had done was done out of love, not out of some sick curiosity.

"Fuck, you have," Libby said, crossing her arms. "you're in deep, kid. Deeper than you think. And you're only fifteen! Shit, this isn't going to end well…"

"I don't need you telling me how my relationship with the man I love is going to end!" Rose shouted, having enough of this. "We're both old enough to handle it ourselves, do you understand? I don't want to hear another word of this out of your fucking mouth, Libby!"

Libby stood up, silent, nodded once, and left. Rose, furious, slid under the blankets and tried to fall asleep.

3

Chris reached over and piled Rose's plate with vegetables and bit of chicken.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"Making sure you're eating well. You never seem to eat enough vegetables, piglet. Here, try the asparagus, it's excellent."

Tentatively, Rose put a green stalk in her mouth. It tasted like a tree.

"Don't like it that much," she said, putting her fork down.

"What do you mean you don't like it?" Chris asked, personal offense written on his face. "How can you not like asparagus? You have to eat the asparagus."

"Why do I have to…"

"I want you to live a long, healthy life, Rose, and the only way you're going to do that is if you eat your vegetables," he said softly, tenderly. "If you aren't going to be alive that long, if you're just going to die on me, before we get to see our children grow old, then I'm not sure if I can be with you…"

Rose looked up at him, his eyes brimming with concern. She smiled faintly, her heart clenched with a bit of confusion. He was talking about the future. The long-term future. The future where they're married and have children and own a house with a dog running around. The future that she wasn't sure she wanted. He bit his lower lip, his perfect lip, and her heart released from its restraint. Her smile reassured itself. Yes, she would be willing to have children with him, to live in a house with him with a dog running around.

"Yeah," she said. "I guess I really don't eat that many vegetables, do I?" She bit into an asparagus, grimacing against the taste.

"Will you meet me outside of the astronomy tower tonight at seven?" Chris asked, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Ah…well…" She was supposed to sneak into the Honeydukes cellars with the Gryffindor girls that night.

"I want to show you how much I love you," he crooned, his hand resting on the inside of her thigh. She blinked, remembering the last time had done that, her throat drying and her body burning with an unquenchable fire.

"I will," she said, her voice catching slightly in her throat. "Seven? By the astronomy tower?"

"Yes."


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Rose's hands wrapped around Chris's waist, pulling him closer to her body as he kissed her by the portrait of the fat lady.

"I have to go," Chris groaned, his lips resting on her neck.

"Do you have to?" she whispered back, her body longing for him, her mind searching for him, her lips yearning for him.

"I have duty tonight, and it's nine fifty. I have only ten minutes to get ready."

"I love you," she whispered, her hands loosening around his waist.

"I love you, too." He kissed her once more on the cheek before departing.

Rose leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, trying to regain her wits before going back up to her room.

"They're not going to forgive you, you know," the portrait said. "You ditched them and they know it."

"I didn't ditch them. I told James to…I told James…he didn't tell them, did he?" She looked up at the sage portrait, who shook her head. "Strawberry turtles, then, I have damage control to do."

3

"We waited for you for an hour! A fucking _hour_, Rose!" Diane shouted, throwing her arms around. "This is the _first thing_ we tried to do as a group since coming here and you fucking ruined it!"

"I told James to…"

"We all know James is a dolt, but this isn't about James," Annie said. "This is about you ditching us for a single date we decided on ages ago for Chris!"

"He _isn't_ good for you!"

"What ever," Rose said, grabbing her cloak off the back of the door. "I'm out of here."

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from here, to be sure."

She flung her cloak around her shoulders and left the house, silently running down the hallways with as much discretion as possible. She had to get out of the castle, out of this confinement, away from all this havoc and judgment. She sprung onto the grounds and sat down at the edge of the lake, staring at the glassy surface as if it was a mirror reflecting her life. The moon at the center -- Chris. The stars circling around it -- friends and family. The shadow next to her….the shadow?

She looked behind her and Greg was standing there.

"Care if I join you?" he asked.

"Whatever," Rose muttered, resenting the fact that her peace was interrupted.

Greg sat down, but didn't say a word. Instead, he focused his eyes out over the lake, looking at something Rose couldn't see. She turned her own attention back to the lake, wondering when Greg was going to break the moment. It took him nearly an hour to say something.

"If I like a girl," he said tentatively, "but she's dating someone, what do I do?"

"Does she like you back?" Rose asked, trying to buy time. She was the last person anyone should come to for relationship advice. Wasn't that a well known fact?

"I don't know."

"I'd wait it out and see if they split up."

"What if…what if you know she's not happy, though? Shouldn't I do something?"

"Like what? It's her life, isn't it? She's got to figure out she's not happy on her own. And if she can't figure out she's not happy, then she's the one that has to change it. Nothing anyone else will do will change it."

He turned his head to look at her, his eyes glistening in the moonlight, his wide beater shoulders tense. He sighed and hung his head.

"I'll see you around," he said, hauling his large frame off the ground. He walked away without a sound back up to the castle.

Rose watched him go, slightly confused. What was that all about? She kind of felt bad for the bloke, but it _was_ just Greg. During the time she had known him, he had caused her more annoyance than Fred, Jim, and her parents combined. She groaned and fell back against the cool grass, letting the green tendrils tickle her neck and the back of her hands. She watched the stars above her, tracing the various constellations she knew, and nearly fell asleep. She had to go, soon. Actually, sooner than soon. Now.

Regretting her fate, she pulled herself onto her feet, brushing her cloak off. Chances are, her roommates weren't going to talk to her again. She dragged her feet back up to the castle and into the Gryffindor common room, somehow managing not to get caught by anything more than Mrs. Norris.

3

"Opening game of the season, Rose, are you going?" Tony asked, sitting across from her at the Gryffindor table, the only Gryffindor that was willing to talk to her like a normal human being.

"Of course."

"Who do you root for in a Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match, anyway?" Tony took a bite of toast.

"Ravenclaw. Because, I mean, I need to support Chris. Fred and James have others to cheer 'em on, you know? But Chris…well, he needs me."

"Yeah, I hear you. You want to sit with me? Libby and the others are staying in for this one."

"Afraid of a bit of rain?"

"Evidently."

"Sure, why not? You want to go now and try and get some seats under the tarp?"

Tony stood up, a glint of excitement in her eye.

"They have a _tarp_? When did they get one of those?"

"I'm not sure, but I know I saw Hagrid put it up."

"Hellz yeah! Let's go! I'll bet people are already crowding the area, but we _have_ to get in there. We wouldn't want the wicked witch of the west to melt, now, would we?" Tony playfully rubbed Rose's head.

"Oh, let's just go, already," Rose said, swatting her away.

The pair of them bolted across the grounds to the quidditch stadium and did, indeed, get the decent seats under the tarp. Rose narrowed her eyes as she watched the Ravenclaws warm up. She saw Chris alright; he was hard to miss.

"Hey, do you see Greg?" Rose asked Tony, turning to her friend.

"Back here," a familiar voice said. Rose turned around and saw Greg with an arm in a sling and a black eye prepared to watch the game.

"What happened to you?" Rose demanded. "I just saw you last night and you were fine!"

"Evidently your boyfriend saw us by the lake and thought I was encroaching on his territory," Greg said bitterly.

"Chris wouldn't do that…"

"Bruises don't lie, Rose," Greg said. "Maybe this will you tell you about the kind of guy he really is. He's keeping a lot from you, you know."

Rose rolled her eyes and turned back to the game.

"You aren't going to listen to him?" Tony asked.

"No. He's been like this forever. As far as I know, James did that to him and he's playing it off like Chris did it."

"I would not let James beat me up before the _first_ game of the season," Greg said, his voice severe.

Rose brushed him off.

"Of course not, because then it would _look_ like James did it!"

"Rose!"

"Besides, if Chris had done it, then it would be all over the school."

"There were no witnesses!"

"Shove it, Greg!"

"Look, the game's starting."

3

"Chris," Rose said. "Can I ask you something?" She looked up at him from his lap, the two of them on the couch in the library.

"You know you can ask me anything." His hand played with her hair as he turned a page in the potions book he was going over.

"Did you really beat up Greg?"

Chris looked down at her, anger gripping his face.

"What does it matter?" he asked. "Do you like him or something?"

"I was just…I was just wondering, you know, if you had or not. I told him you would never…"

"He was threatening you, piglet," he whispered softly, rubbing her face with his thumb. "You didn't see it. But I could. I could see him envying you, loving you, thinking of you. He can't take his eyes off you. I love you too much to have another man think of you like that. You're all mine. Never forget that."

"I know, I know, but why did you…why did you beat him up?"

"You don't understand." Chris turned back to his book.

"Hey!" She grabbed his hand. "You can't just beat people up, Chris."

He shook her off. "You do love him more than me, don't you?" His tone was low, growling with anger and resentment.

"What? No! That has nothing…"

"Then what were you doing with him by the lake?"

"I went out there to get some air, and he was there."

"Yeah, sure. Ok. Whatever. If you don't love me, then just say it, Rose. Just say it and this will all be over. It's what you want, isn't it? To be alone?" Chris stood up. "What am I even doing with you? You're such a waste of time, Rose. I should be with someone who cares." He started to walk way.

"Chris, wait…" Rose ran after him. "Stop it. That's not what I…"

"What do you want, Rose? What? I've done all of this for you and what do I get in response? An accusation? No. I've spent too much time on this. I've…I've wasted so much time on you. I thought you were really something. Really, I did. Now I can see what kind of a bitch you really are."

He started walking again. Rose could feel him slipping away. She grabbed his wrist.

"I'm sorry," she said, struggling to find words. "I'm sorry. That's not…that's not what I meant. Please, Chris, don't go like this. It's just…Greg and my cousins…I needed to know. Just to be sure. I'm sorry…I'm sorry I questioned you…I know you care about me…ok? Please forgive me. Please."

Chris turned and looked at her, his eyes cold and jaw set.

"Fine," he said. "Fine, I forgive you. Be in the empty classroom by the divination room at eight. I'll meet you there."

"Ok," she said. "I'll be there."

Chris wrapped his arms softly around her.

"I love you, Rose. Never forget that."


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

"Do you love me?" Chris whispered in her ear, his hands wrapped around her bare waist.

"Of course I love you," she whispered back, her lips inches from his neck.

"Do you love me enough to show me?"

"To show you?"

His hands slipped off her waist and unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall to his ankles.

"To show me," he said, gently brushing the hair away from her face.

Rose's heart pounded painfully against her chest. What did he want her to do? "I…I don't know…"

"It's easy," he whispered, resting his head against her bare shoulder. "Really easy."

"What do I…?"

"Use your mouth…your hand…" He kissed her collar bone.

"I don't…"

"Don't you love me?"

"Of course…"

"Don't you want to show me?"

"I…I…"

He pulled away from her, a hard look in his eye. Without a word, he bent down and pulled up his pants and buckled his belt.

"Fine," he said, his voice hard. "If you don't love me…"

He walked by her towards the door of the locked classroom.

"Chris, no, please…" She chased after him, reaching out to grab his shoulder. He turned around and hit her hand away. "Chris!" She grabbed his arm. "Chris…"

"Ugh." He slapped her across the cheek. "Don't touch me."

Rose stared at him, silent, her cheek throbbing, as he turned and left, slamming the door behind him. Her heart thumped against her chest, the feeling numbing. For a moment, she couldn't move. She couldn't look around. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't blink. She couldn't believe she had let him leave.

Finally, she tore herself away from the closed door and grabbed her discarded shirt. She slid her tee-shirt over her head, her breath catching in her chest and her eyes blurring slightly. She turned the handle of the door and walked down the deserted hallway, her arms wrapped tightly around her body, her legs weak beneath her, her cheeks wet with tears.

3

"Damn it, Rose, get out of your fucking bed," Libby snapped. "You haven't moved all weekend!"

Rose groaned and rolled over. It was Sunday. She had every right to sleep all day if she wanted.

"I think we're going to have to get Fred and James," Annie said.

"Please don't," Rose muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around her body.

"Look, we know something happened," Diane said. "Just tell us what it was."

"It wasn't _anything_!"

"What did you do to your eye?" Tony asked, plucking Rose's hand from under the blanket.

"Bludger," Rose muttered, tugging the blanket over head with a slight wince. Chris had hit her harder than he intended, she was sure. He didn't know his own strength.

"Give me that," Libby said, still snappy. "This isn't an accident, Rose."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"He's abusing you?" Annie asked, her voice incredulous.

"No! Merlin, why can't you leave me alone!"

"You need to break up with him, Rose," Libby said. "He isn't doing you any good."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Rose growled.

"No?" Libby said. "Trust me, I know well enough. This has to stop."

"Why don't you just leave me the fuck alone?"

"Because obviously you _can't_ be left alone!"

"Ugh."

3

Rose pushed her potatoes around on her plate. She wasn't hungry. Still.

"So what're we going to do this weekend?" Annie asked. "It's a Hogsmeade weekend, right? I can't wait. I need to go to honeydukes and get some more lollipops."

"More, Annie? Are you kidding? That's way too many lollipops for one girl to eat," Diane teased.

"Hardly when you have _Fred_ going through your stuff when he's looking for _someone's_ pillow." Annie shot a glance at Tony.

"Isn't my fault the kid doesn't know my pillow's the _only_ white one. Oh, wait, it isn't, is it, Annie?"

"Oh, shove it, you."

"Hey, Rose, are you coming this weekend?" Diane asked.

"Um…I guess so…"

"You really should eat something," Tony said.

"I'm not really hungry."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Rose watched Chris walk into the Great Hall with his usual swagger. There was something off about him, like he wasn't completely happy or something. She wanted to get up and go over to him, to apologize and beg him for his forgiveness. Instead, she bowed her head, staring at her plate full of eggs and bacon, and struggled not to succumb to the tears threatening to overwhelm her.

3

It seemed he was everywhere. He was in the Great Hall whenever she was in the Great Hall. He was in the same corridor that she was in at any time of day. He was out on the grounds when she went for a walk. He was in the abandoned classroom she almost stumbled into to let out the tears she had been holding back. He was everywhere. And every time she saw him, she got closer to giving in, to apologizing, to offering to show him how much he meant to her. It was pathetic. Three days without him and she was a blubbering mess. It was like three days without a part of her body, a very large piece of her.

She bowed her head to her book, trying to forget about that piece, trying to finish a potion's essay, trying to get through this year in one piece. OWL's were coming up and if she failed them, then she didn't have a career. Professor Longbottom had wasted no time in reminding his fifth years of that. She bit back the panic rising in her throat at the thought of the Ordinary Wizarding Levels. That was the last thing she wanted to think about just then.

Chris walked in. She didn't have to look up from her book to know it. She could smell his cologne, hear his step, feel his breath stirring the room. Her hands trembled under the strain of not looking, her mind faltered from her task at hand. She could only think of his warm hand around hers, his arms around her body, his tongue in her mouth. Her breaths came hard.

She looked up. Her lungs froze. He was right there. At the bookshelf. Picking one out. Potions. She forced herself to look back to her text.

"Fuck," she muttered. It was useless. She slammed her book closed and walked up to Chris, surprised that her legs could carry her.

"What it is?" he asked stiffly, anger still evident in his tones.

"I want to show you how much I love you," Rose said, whispered, her voice quaking with the effort not to cry out, to jump on him, to sob. "I need you so much, Chris. I'm sorry I…I…I refused before I just…I'm sorry."

He looked over at her, his eyes soft. He dropped the book he held and wrapped his arms tightly around her, pressing her against his chest. She cried, then, unable to restrain her emotion.

"I forgive you," he whispered in her ear. "I'll give you one more chance, Rose. But if you disappoint me again…"

"I know…I-I won't…"

"Good. I love you, Rose."

"I-I love you, t-too."

3

Chris pinned her against the wall next to the portrait of the fat lady.

"You're amazing," he muttered, his lips inches from hers.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Honestly, Rose. You're amazing." He pressed his lips onto her neck, sending a shiver through her body. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend." His hands wrapped around her wrist. Rose looked up at him, uncertain. His grip tightened slightly. Air rushed into her lungs. His eyes widened. "Will you?"

"Yes."

He gathered her hands and kissed them gently.

"I'll see you around," he said, gently dropping them. He turned away and headed down the staircase, skipping the trick stair, and heading to the Ravenclaw tower. She smiled after him, content and perfectly happy again. She wrapped her arms around herself, secure in the fact that everything was as it should be.

"Vice Virgo," she said to the fat lady and the portrait swung open. She crawled through the hole.

Six unhappy people crowded around her, all of them united in outrage.

"How could you go back to him?" Libby shouted, her face red.

"He beat up Greg and you go running back to him?" James added.

"He's _dangerous_, Rose. Dangerous! What don't you understand about that? Huh? What?" Diane yelled, getting in on the action.

"He's going to hurt you even more," Annie said softly.

"More?" Fred demanded, his voice echoing through the common room. "Come on, James. We have a Ravenclaw to teach a lesson."

"I'll go send a message to Hugo," James said, running for the stairs.

"What? No! Get back here!" Rose shouted.

"Did he really hurt you?" Fred asked, grabbing her shoulders and staring into her eyes.

"No!"

"Look at her face," Annie said.

"You told me you got that from forgetting to duck on your way into the common room!" Fred screamed.

"She lied," Annie said, crossing her arms.

"He did fucking hurt you! He fucking hurt her, James!"

"I'm sending an airplane to Al now," James called downstairs. In seconds, a paper airplane, a message written inside, zipped by their heads out of the common room. "Hugo's too young to get involved, I think."

"I can't believe this! Greg was fucking right!"

"Greg is a pathological liar," Rose said.

"Greg cares more about you than I think you realize," James said, his invisibility cloak tucked under his arm. "Come on, I told Al we'd meet him in the abandoned classroom by the divination room."

"You can't do this!" Rose shouted.

"We made a promise, Rose," James said. "We told your father we would look after you, make sure nothing happened, keep you safe. Evidently we didn't do a good enough job at that. Fred, come on before you have an aneurism. Under the cloak."

The pair disappeared under the shimmering cloth and the portrait swung open.

"Get back here!" Rose called after them. "What do you think this is going to accomplish? It isn't going to do anything!" She felt tears rise in her eyes, the hopelessness of the situation washing over her. Chris was going to leave her again, abandon her. "You guys are such _idiots_!"

The portrait door slammed closed.


	37. Chapter 37

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Fred and James were at the other end of the table, eating their eggs in silence. Neither of them looked injured. Rose shook her head and turned her attention back to the Ravenclaw table. Chris still wasn't there. He was supposed to be there. And where was Al? It didn't matter. He was probably talking with Hugo about the properties of unicorn blood or something of the sort in the back of the library.

"Rose, I need to talk to you."

Rose swiveled around and saw Chris standing over her, a man dressed in a muggle suit a little ways behind him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, standing up.

Chris put his arm aggressively around her shoulders, pulling her out of the great hall. The man with the suit lingered by the Gryffindor table.

"How could you tell them?" he hissed, dragging her down the hallway.

"Tell who what?"

His fingers dug into her arm.

"Tell your darling cousins I _abuse_ you? I do no such thing."

"Chris…I didn't…"

"Shut up."

"But…"

He pushed her against the wall, the stone nipping the side of her forehead.

"Chris…"

"I don't want to hear any of your excuses," he snarled, pinning her against the wall with his thick forearm.

"What're you…"

His hand came up and slapped her across the face.

"Shut up. It's your fault all of this is happening. It's all your fault."

His hand slipped around her neck. The back of her head ached against the hard stone, her lungs struggling to fill with air. He punched her in the stomach, quickly emptying her lungs. Her eyes widened, tears surfacing.

"It's your God-dammned fault Al got hurt!" He punched her again, the force making her vision blur. "And it's your goddamn fault that I got kicked out of fucking Hogwarts!" He punched her again. "It's all your goddamn fa-

-"

"Chris!"

The pressure relieved on Rose's neck and her legs crumpled beneath her, her eyes closing as pain washed over her body. There was scuffle in front of her, but she didn't take any heed. Her mind spun and her vision blurred. She closed her eyes, trying to fight for a breath, and fell asleep.

3

"I'm fine, Tony," Fred said, nudging away from her. "It's just a little nosebleed."

"It isn't just a nosebleed, Fred. You've been bleeding for twenty minutes, now."

"I'm fine."

"Fred…"

"Go see how Libby's doing."

"Libby's fine."

"She's passed out and her leg is…"

"I'm fine!" Libby growled from a few beds away.

"Rose…Rose?" Fred jumped out of his bed and hovered over his cousin.

"What's wrong with Rose?" James shouted.

"Stay still, Potter," Madame Bouchard commanded, pushing the redhead back in the bed.

Rose looked up at Fred and then rolled over, burying her head into the pillow. She fought against the ache in her forehead and didn't move.

"Oh come on," Fred said, tugging at the blanket. "Don't be like that. I didn't even do anything wrong!"

"Leave her alone, Fred," Tony said, her voice low and threatening.

"Or what? You're going to kick me out?"

"No, I will," Madame Bouchard said angrily, walking over to the pair and grabbing them by the upper arms. "Go get dinner or go to bed or to class or something. Just get out of here!"

She pushed them into the hallway and shut the door after them. Rose could still hear them arguing.

"Drink this, dear," Madame Bouchard said, putting a cup of potion to Rose's lips.

Rose took it in her hands and slowly tipped her head back, grimacing as the bitter liquid burned her throat and her neck ached as she tilted her head back. But the potion warmed in her belly, giving her a heady, comfortable feeling.

"Now try to get some sleep."

As soon as Rose's head rested against the soft pillows, her eyes were heavy and any thoughts she had were caught in the web of dreams.

3

Greg didn't say anything, but he sat down next to Rose's bed, offering her a plate of food. She set it aside, not particularly hungry.

"You should at least try to eat," he said quietly, leaning back in the chair.

Rose knew he was just doing his job; he had taken a position as healer assistant as a part of the school's extra-curricular program. Madame Bouchard had given his assignment of watching her in front of Rose; there was no use hiding it. Lazily, he pulled out his wand and flicked it at the radio. The Harpies-Torandoes game came on. Rose ground her teeth and glared at Greg. He knew very well that there was a Cannons game on in…she quickly checked her watch…five minutes.

"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, his voice still low.

She rolled her eyes.

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to listen to _Swod_ who just got traded to the Harpies again."

"What?" Rose tried to yell, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again, but with the same result. She bit back rising panic and continued her thought. "Who the fuck did the Canons replace her with? They did think that through, didn't they? Merlin's dirty underwear I hope so…" Her voice completely gave out. She cleared her throat and grimaced at the sting and tried to continue her rant with no sound.

"Trust me," Greg said. "They got a good replacement."

"Who?" she mouthed, unable to force out any sound.

"Guess."

She made a rude gesture.

"Wood."

"Seriously?"

Greg just grinned and switched the radio channel. An interview with Wood. Her heart skipped a beat. The Cannons _had_ gotten Wood. She sighed and leaned against her pillow.

"Seriously?" She turned to look at him, his lips in a tight grin. He nodded.

She closed her eyes as the teams walked out onto the pitch and envisioned the game like she usually did, forgetting where she was for a few minutes.

"Alright," Greg said, interrupting her assessment. "You need to eat something so I can get out of here. I have potions in ten minutes."

"I'm not hungry." A husky sound escaped her lips.

"Don't force it," he said. "Chances are, your voice'll come back later. Straining it now won't make it better faster, you know."

"Shove it. I'm trying to listen."

"Sorry. I can't read lips that well. Now take some food, will you? Wolfe is going to skin me."

Rose crossed her arms and glared at him. Why couldn't he just leave her in peace?

"Alright, let me try a different approach." He leaned forward in his chair. "You want to get out of here?" He waited for a response Rose refused to give. "I know you do. Bouchard isn't going to let you out until you start eating normally. So…the more you eat, the sooner you get out. Sound reasonable?"

"I'm not hungry."

His disposition changed in a second, his eyes flaring with a fierce emotion, his hands clenched on his knees.

"Merlin, Rose! What the bloody hell happened to you?" he demanded, his hissing tone barely louder than her own whisper, his eyes wide. "What did he _do_ to you? You don't even know, do you? Fuck. He's such a fucking asshole." He stood up, the back of his neck red. "I'll leave you to your game. That's all you seem to care about."

3

Rose wore her tie loosely around her neck, not likely the way it felt when secured tightly, and the top button undone. She gathered her hair in a loose ponytail and went up the stairs to charms, her head down and her gaze focused on the stone floor. Everyone was staring at her. It wasn't a matter of opinion, but fact. Everyone had noticed Al's absence and Hugo's eye patch, Fred's bloodstained school sweater and James's slight limp. They knew Chris wasn't in school anymore and that Rose hadn't said a word since getting out of the hospital wing. They all wondered, but none of them had enough balls to ask.

Silently, she took her seat at the back of the class and dropped her bag at her feet, not even bothering to take out her book. It wasn't like she didn't know what Flitwick was going over, anyway. Instead, she removed a packet of papers with the stats for every quidditch team in the B league and started going through the draft picks, figuring out which ones she would take and which ones she would leave behind if she was coach of the Cannons.

Flitwick didn't notice. He never did. Neither did any of the other professors. Either that or they didn't want to talk with her. Whatever.

She was definitely taking Demetrius Johanason.


	38. Chapter 38

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

The piece of paper that fell out of Rose's bag was the summons Longbottom had sent her for an appointment to discuss her future. She had ignored it and, instead, took up residence in the least frequented corner of the library -- the one dedicated to history of magic. In front of her on the table she had player stats for all twenty international teams and their affiliated b-league teams. She had to say, the Harpies probably had the best model. Undoubtedly, they were shortly followed by the Tornadoes and then the Possums. The Cannons broke their plan by taking in Wood and now their whole program would probably go to the dogs. She bit her lip and flipped through a few pages, trying to find the history of the Cannon program she knew she had somewhere.

"Hello, Rose," Professor Longbottom said, taking a seat at the table.

"Err…hey," Rose replied, slowly putting the papers in her hand back on the table.

"I need to talk with you," he said. "Did you get my note?"

"Uh…"

"Thought as much. I received an owl from your mother asking me to tell you that when you return home, your father is going to be there."

Rose stared at him, unsure of what to say.

"There's still some mild paranoia left over from the curse," he continued softly. "But he's marginally better than he was. He's on a heavy regiment of potion in an effort to edge out any leftover negative effects and the ministry is monitoring him closely. He's going through a program right now to essentially re-establish history for him. It seems to be working well."

"Good," Rose said.

"Has anyone told you what happened to Al, yet? I think I was supposed to tell you that too."

"I know something happened…"

"Chris cursed his leg. Badly. Almost severed it. St. Mungo's couldn't save it. Right now, he's going through a difficult treatment. He's not returning to school this year. Ministry officials are also trying to figure out if Chris used an unforgivable in the little spat the boys had. It seems as if Hugo was under his control and he may also have done something similar to Libby."

"Chris wouldn't…"

"He's being sent to Azkaban, Rose, for a minimum of ten years. He's quite a bit of dark magic on underage wizards and he is not going to be forgiven for that."

Rose started gathering her documents and slipping them silently back into their sleeves, trying not to think about the mess she had made. If she had just convinced Fred and James that it was no big deal, that she was fine, that none of this was worth arguing over…

She slipped the folder in her bag and left Longbottom sitting alone at the table, not really caring. She didn't want to be around anyone. She didn't want to see anyone. She didn't want to hear anyone. All she wanted was to be alone. But that was impossible in Hogwarts, wasn't it? Privacy was a privilege reserved for Christmas break and summer vacation. Nothing she did would bring her further away from all of this.

Her bag slid under her bed and she flopped on top of it. It was her fault, wasn't it? All of this? She struggled to swallow and rolled over. Of course it was. Whose else would it be? Shivers ran down her body. A sense of hopelessness shrouded her mind. Despair wrapped around her heart. It was her fault. Hers. No one else's. If she had treated Chris better, done what he asked, been a better person…none of this would have happened. She drew a shuddering breath and slowly released it. She ruined his life. He had so much potential, so much magic, and now he was restrained to Azkaban, a permanent mark on his record forever. Burning tears leaked from her eyes.

She had ruined everything.

3

"You're coming with us," Fred whispered in her ear, grabbing her wrist and dragging her out of the common room.

"What're you…?"

"Hush, we're meeting up with Greg," James said, a mischevious grin on his face. "He wants to introduce some first years to the Biting Bowl."

"What?" Rose's voice didn't carry very far in the dark hallway. "Didn't you guys already do that?"

"Not to Ravenclaws," Fred muttered, stifling giggles.

3

"Alright, boys," Greg said, crossing his beater's arms over his chest. "You want to know how to get a nut?"

"A knut?" one of the Ravenclaws asked, crossing his scrawny arms.

"Yeah, a nut," Greg assured him.

"How?" another one asked.

"I'm gonna let my Gryffindor brothers take care of that one."

"You have brothers?" the girl asked critically.

"Figuratively speaking, Clearwater, now listen up."

"All you have to do is pet the bowl," James said with a shrug.

"And why should we believe you?" a fourth said. "You don't exactly have the best reputation, you know."

"Cause Fred'll do it first, won't you, Fred?"

"Yep," Fred said, walking confidently up to the portrait and running his hand over the bowl. He turned to Greg. "Knut, please."

"They aren't for you and you know it," Greg said, swiftly putting the lesser beater in a headlock. Fred struggled against him, but with no avail.

"You're ridiculous," the girl said. "I want to see Greg do it."

"Why? You think it's cursed against Ravenclaws or something? Do you know what kind of magical skill that takes? And, more importantly, do you think these two buffoons and a fifth year could pull it off?" Rose said, her voice tapering off to a whisper by the end.

"Don't push it, Rose," Greg said, briefly tightening his grip on the flailing Fred before letting him go. "And she's right, you know. None of us have enough magical ability to charm something like that."

"But you're a _Ravenclaw_. We can do anything we want to."

"Well, that may be true. But why would I _want_ something to do harm to my _own_ house?" Greg said.

"Exclusively his own house," Rose muttered too softly for anyone but Fred to hear her.

"Here's how it works," James said, pulling a money purse full of walnuts out of his pocket. "After all of you pet the bowl, you get your nuts."

"You guys are ridiculous," the girl said.

"So are you going to pet the bowl?" Greg asked, leaning on the wall next to the portrait. "It's virtually harmless."

"Virtually?" the girl asked.

"Yep. Won't actually do a thing. Honest."

"Ugh. Fine. But if I don't get my knut…"

She walked up and rubbed her hand against the bowl. She seemed surprised when it did nothing.

"Did it hurt?" one of the boys asked.

"Are you ok?" the other one pressed.

"I'm fine," she said.

"Really?"

"Yes, Tim. Merlin, you'd think you _fancied_ me or something."

The kid was red-faced when he went to pet the bowl himself. He came away unscathed, too.

"The next one," Greg said, motioning to the bowl.

The second boy walked up and put his hand against the bowl. It disappeared into the portrait.

The boy screamed hysterically, trying to pull his arm out with his free one.

"That's never happened before," James said.

The kid kept screaming.

"Alright," Greg said, putting his hands on his shoulders. "You need to be quiet or peeves is going to find you."

"You guys are leaving me? It's sucking me in further!" He was now sucked up to his shoulder in the painting.

"No we aren't leaving."

The kid jerked forward, screaming slightly. The other two kids grabbed his free arm and tried to pull him out. They only succeeded in getting his upper body stuck in the portrait.

"What're we going to do?" the girl demanded, turning to Greg. "This is all your fault, you know."

"You two go back to your dormitory," Rose said. "Or else Filch is gonna catch you. We'll take care of him."

The two glanced at each other and, without another word, scampered into the hallway.

Rose, Fred, James, and Greg turned their attention to the kid whose legs were flailing in the air, his upper half stuck in the portrait. With every jerk of his body, he was sucked deeper into the portrait.

"Where do you think he's going?" Fred asked, picking up the kid's shoe that fell off.

"Kitchens," Rose said.

"In a few years, this kid'll laugh about this," James said, leaning against the wall.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Greg muttered, scratching his head. "Ravenclaws tend to hold onto embarrassment for a while."

"Ok, then in ten years. Whatever. It doesn't even matter," James said.

Only the kid's feet and angles dangled over the floor.

"We should go in when he's in," Rose said. "Make sure he's ok and stuff."

His toes disappeared and they heard a dull thud on the other side. Fred reached up and expertly tickled the pear. The picture swung open and the four of them entered the warm, sweet smelling kitchens.

"Toby!" Greg shouted.

"Greg!" The kid ran towards him, one shoe off, a pastry in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. "This place is _awesome_! How come we never get shown it?"

"It's technically off limits," Greg said.

The boy's face paled.

"Would Toby like another pastry, young sir? Or perhaps a pudding?" a house elf said, offering up a tray of sweets.

"I…I shouldn't be here?"

"No one cares so long as you're not caught," Greg said.

"But…but….but…"

"It's ok, Tobe, honestly." Greg ruffled the kid's blonde hair.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

He smiled.

"Ok. Can I have a pudding, please?"

"Of course, young sir, of course!"


	39. Chapter 39

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

"Here," Libby said, throwing a book on Rose's bed. "I found that in the common room."

"Thanks," Rose muttered. She shoved it into her already over packed trunk and bore down on it, forcing it to click shut.

"Ready to go home?" Tony asked, entering the room with a brightly wrapped present under her arm.

"What's that?" Libby asked.

"Oh…um…just something Fred gave me. An early Christmas present. My parents don't like owl post…so…" She tried to shut her trunk on it.

"You shouldn't shove it in there if it's breakable," Libby said.

"I don't think it…" There was an odd crushing sound. "Shit. What the fuck is he doing giving me breakable shit? He knows I can't keep anything in one piece…"

"Here, let me see it," Libby said, taking the package. She took off the wrapping and set it on the bed.

"Aawww," Tony said, reaching out to touch the broken pieces. "It's a toy cat!"

"Why are you so excited about a toy cat?" Libby said.

"Because it's a life-like one because he knows my dad's allergic and I always wanted a cat! And it's even grey! I love grey cats!" She took its decapitated head in her hands. "Aww…Libby, can you fix it?"

"_Reparo _should do, you know," Libby said, crossing her arms.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Sweet!"

Tony proceeded to put the pieces back together the best she could, pulled out her wand, and muttered the spell. The cat came to life, looking up at her and meowing.

"Aw, it's so _cute_!" Tony squealed, picking up the cat under its front legs.

"Wow…it actually moves like a real cat, too," Libby said, pulling gently at its tail. The cat turned its head in her direction and hissed.

"I'm gonna call you…mmm…I need to think of a good name…Let's go ask Fred!"

Tony dashed out of the room with the cat held protectively against her chest.

"She is so lucky that cat can't die," Libby muttered, forcing the clasp closed on her trunk. "Alright, I'm going for breakfast, you coming?"

"Maybe in a bit," Rose muttered, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

"You really should, you know. You're going to be starving on the train."

Rose shrugged her off.

"See you down there, then."

"Sure."

Libby thudded down the stairs, leaving Rose alone. Rose inhaled deeply, pushed her trunk off her bed, and laid down for a minute, closing her eyes. Why did she stay up so late last night? She stifled a yawn and wrapped her arm around her pillow.

3

Rose sat between Frank and Greg, her arms crossed and her eyes heavy. Fred was in the corridor with Tony, the two of them shamelessly snogging in front of a couple of second years. The train rumbled underneath them, carrying them back to London, carrying Rose back to her dreams. She tried to hold onto the conversation Frank and James were having about the odds of the Harpies winning the title this year, and she wanted to jump in, to yell at them for being idiots, but she found her head nodding and her eyes closing instead. And then she lost the conversation all together and was just dreaming.

3

"Rose. Rose, come on, we're at King's Cross," a voice whispered to her.

She became aware of her cheek pressed against something soft and warm, the dryness of her mouth, the fact that her eyes were closed.

"Ungh."

She didn't want to open them. She was warm, comfortable, still tired.

"Come on, Rose. Your parents are going to be waiting."

That voice sounded familiar. Whose was it?

"Just a few more minutes."

"I've given you a few more minutes several times, kid. Come on, you have to get up."

"You're too soft on her, Greg." James? So she wasn't…shit.

She sat up straight and opened her eyes, crusty with sleep. She rubbed them and looked around.

"Sorry," she muttered, stretching her neck. "I just…"

"Don't worry about it," Greg said, standing up and stretching his back. "Just wish you had given me some more time to move around first. You were out within five minutes."

"Yeah. Sorry. After you guys dragged me back to the common room, the girls decided to have a Christmas party or something. I can't even remember. I think there was some firewhiskey involved."

"There usually is. The red one your trunk?" Greg asked, pulling her trunk off the rack.

"Um, yeah, thanks."

"Alright, come on, I'll carry it for you. What do you have in this thing? It feels as if you're bringing home more books than I am." He grinned at her and dragged both trunks easily out of the compartment and into the crowded hallway.

"Greg, you don't have to…"

"Too late," he said, sticking his tongue out at her.

"Greg!" She hustled after him, pushing by some confused first years. "Hey! Give me my trunk back!"

"You'll get it outside, now come on."

He jumped off the train, the two trunks still clutched in his hand. Damn, he had some physical prowess. She slid off the train and tried to find him in the throng of people. He was off to the side, leaning idly against a pillar.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," Rose said, grabbing the hand to her trunk.

"It would have taken you three times as long to drag this thing out. What did you bring home, anyway?"

"Everything."

Greg grinned and chuckled.

"Well, I see my dad, so I'm going to go. I'll probably see you at some point this vacation," he said, grabbing his trunk and walking towards the awkward looking muggle by the gates.

"Who was that boy?" A shiver ran down her spine. She looked over her shoulder and saw her father standing not too far away, his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth frowning.

"Just Greg," she said quickly, walking slowly towards him.

"Well who is this Greg fellow?"

"A friend of James and Fred."

"Is he your friend?"

"I…I guess so."

"Ronald, stop harassing the girl. Hugo's here, let's go. We have a few stops to make before going home."

"What kind of stops?" Hugo asked.

"Lily, James, come on!" their dad hollered over the hum.

"The Burrow, for one, and the cottage."

"What're we doing at the cottage?" Rose asked.

"Do you have a cold or something?" her mum asked. "You sound off…"

"Ah, no I'm fine. Just…I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, let's go. Ron, can you tie the trunks to the roof?"

"Yep."

3

Rose sat down on the couch to the cottage, resenting the fact that her parents left her and Hugo there. Lou and Hugo were off doing something on the shore while Dom and Victoire were still at work. Which left Rose to the couch. Alone.

"Who are you?" a small voice asked in a distinctly French accent.

Rose looked at the floor and saw a four year old with her hands clasped behind her back, her blonde hair plaited down her back.

"Rose. Who're you?"

"Emma."

"What're you doin' here?"

"Visiting me tante."

"Your tante?"

"Oui!" The girl giggled. "And my brozher is here somewhere. I zhink 'e is outside wizh Louis."

"Ahuh."

"We are 'ere for Christmas!" She giggled again. Rose couldn't figure the kid out.

"Ah, I see 'oo 'ave met Emma?" Aunt Fleur asked.

"Er…yeah."

"She is my sister's daughter. My family is coming 'ere for Christmas zhis year."

Emma giggled again.

"Ok."

"She is excited to be in England for zhe first time, aren't 'oo?"

"Oui!" She giggled again and ran from the room.

"Strange kid," Rose muttered.

"Quidditch game is on," Aunt Fleur said, flicking her wand at the radio in the corner.

"Thanks."

"My pleasure." She disappeared after the little girl.

Rose sunk back into the couch and listened to the Harpies-Possum game.

3

Rose sat across from Hugo and silently pushed her mashed potatoes around her plate.

"So what do you two want for Christmas?" their mum asked.

"Cannons sweatshirt," Hugo said.

"Wood's Cannons jersey," Rose replied.

Their dad grinned, pride in his eye.

"Anything else?" their mum pressed.

Rose knew she was looking for books.

"Holiday with Hags," Rose said, trying very hard not to crack a grin. "Lockhart."

Her mum sent her one of her looks.

"Oh! Love Lockhart!" Hugo said, looking up. "Can you get me Voyage with Vampires?"

Their dad looked at Hugo with an incredulous look on his face.

"Your grandmother has all of Lockhart's books," their mum said stiffly. "I'm sure she'd let you borrow those. I am not buying them."

"That man," their dad said, struggling to speak without bursting out in laughter. "Is the biggest fraud in the history of the wizarding world!"

"If you want a good book about hags or vampires, then I'll find you one. I am not buying you _Lockhart_'s stuff."

"Actually, can you get me a book on werewolves?" Rose asked, looking up from her cold meal.

"Yeah. I actually know of the perfect volume."

"Are we going to the Burrow for Christmas?" Hugo asked tentatively.

"No," their mum said. "We've all decided to celebrate Christmas on our own."

"That's stupid," Hugo muttered. "Christmas is about family. We should be with our whole family."

"It'll be fine, Hugo," their mum said, grinning confidently. "It'll just be a little different."

"I don't like different." Hugo pressed fork down on his potatoes.


	40. Chapter 40

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Hugo shut the door behind him and slumped to the floor of Rose's room, his hands shaking and his shoulders caving in on him. Rose groaned and rolled over, trying to fall back asleep. What time was it? Eight? Merlin! What was the kid doing up this early? He started sobbing, his shuddering breaths refusing to allow Rose to fall back into the bliss of the abyss of slumber.

"What is it, Hugo?" she asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of her tone.

"D-dad's lost it a-again," he said, looking up at her with wet cheeks and red eyes.

Rose sighed and slipped from her bed, sinking to the floor next to him.

"It'll be fine," she said, having some difficulty reaching across his broadening shoulders to comfort him.

"N-no. It's w-worse than b-before." He wrapped his arms around Rose and cried into her shirt. "D-dad tried t-to…" He didn't finish. Rose rubbed his back, hoping it would help him calm down. He just kept on crying.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Rose? Hugo?" It was Aunt Audrey. "Open the door."

"Hugo, you need to move," Rose said, urging him to leave the path for the door to open free of obstruction. He scooted over accordingly, the tears still streaming mercilessly down his face.

"Hey…oh, Hugo…" Aunt Audrey gracefully fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around her sobbing nephew. "It'll be alright, Hugo. Both of them are being taken care of. I promise."

Rose watched, silently stunned. What in the world had happened? Tentatively, she stood up and walked out of her room and down the hallway.

Her father was being held to the ground by two ministry officials, their blue robes identifying them as workers for the auror department. He struggled against them, trying to get his wand out of his reach, his legs kicking futilely at them. His mouth opened and closed. They had put a silencing spell on him. The look on his face, the one of murderous intent and vile actions, sent shivers down her spine. She had never seen her father look like that.

And her mum. Unconscious on the floor. Four healers hovering around her. Her face pale. Her body limp. Her jaw slack. The curse mark on her side of her cheek. The broken vases and cracked window, the lamp shattered on the floor.

He really had snapped.

Rose looked at her hands, unable to remain steady. She had two options. Two choices. Two fates. She could run. She could stay. She could reinforce her reputation as a terrible Gryffindor. She could begin to reinstate herself as a brave and loyal force. She wasn't quite sure how either option would pan out, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Her hands tightened into determined fists at her side, her teeth clenched immovably together.

"What…" She cleared her throat. "What needs to be done?"

One of the ministry workers standing by the door looked at her, a puzzled look on his face. Then he grinned.

"Ah, you must be the Gryffindor. Go pack a bag for you and your brother and go with your aunt," he said, walking across the room towards her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and directed her away from the living room. "Your parents will both be fine. They just need some time, understand?"

"Yeah."

"Now go pack those bags, ok? Your brother doesn't look like he's in much shape for anything."

Rose glanced at Hugo, still on the floor with Aunt Audrey, and started packing his bag.

3

"I can't take them," Aunt Ginny said in hushed tones. "Not with Al…and Harry's blaming himself, as usual…it's a bad time."

"We're going north to visit my brother. We can't take them," Aunt Audrey said.

"Our 'ouse is already full of people," Aunt Fleur said. "Ozherwise I would take zhem in a 'eartbeat."

"We don't have the space in our apartment," Aunt Angie said. "And there are boxes _everywhere._"

"I hate to send them away from the family right now," Aunt Ginny said, looking over her shoulder at Rose who was listening scrupulously to the whole thing.

"I know, but what choices do we have?" Uncle Bill asked.

"What about the Longbottoms or the Scamanders?" Uncle Harry asked, walking up to the group from down the hallway.

"Longbottoms are always busy this time of year and Scamanders are in Yugoslavia," Aunt Ginny said.

"Ginny, are you sure we can't…?"

"No, Harry. Al needs quiet. And we both know that managing Lily and James has already been a handful while tending to him. Two more isn't going to make it any easier. Especially with my job on the line."

"We can throw Lou and Dom in the attic, can't we?" Uncle Bill suggested.

"No," Fleur replied quickly. "My family is already zhere. Zhey are everywhere. Even sleeping on zhe floor. 'Oo know zhis, Bill!"

Uncle Bill scratched his head.

"This is what we get for not having a Weasley Christmas, I guess," Uncle George said. Aunt Angie smacked him upside the head.

"What are our other options?" Aunt Ginny pressed.

"Teddy or Victoire?" Uncle Harry said.

"No. Teddy's staying with some random relatives on his dad's side and Victoire is spending all her time at the cottage," Aunt Ginny answered.

"Who else?"

"Doesn't Hermione have a sister?" Uncle Bill asked.

Everyone turned and looked at Rose and Hugo.

"And a brother," Aunt Ginny conceded.

"Just until the thirtieth when Fleur's family leaves, though," Uncle Bill amended. "So a week."

"You're sure just a week?"

"Yes."

Aunt Ginny bit her lip.

"Ok. Get her contact information. We'll need to talk with her."

3

Rose stared at the house in front of her -- a large mansion in the modern style set in the country side.

"Who's house is this?" Rose asked Aunt Audrey, who was nervously standing next to her.

"Your uncle's. His name is Grey. He has a three year old daughter named Addie, and his wife's name is Nora."

"What do we call him?" Hugo asked, nervously adjusting the strap on his bag.

"Ask him," Rose said, awed by the landscaping of the front yard, not really paying much attention to Hugo.

"Yeah, but isn't that rude?"

"I don't know."

Rose watched a cat slink from under a bush across the lawn.

"Alright, are you two ready?" Aunt Audrey asked.

"I…I guess so," Hugo muttered, rubbing his hair.

3

Grey was like a male version of her mum, Rose decided as he ruffled through some papers at the kitchen table. He was a lawyer, and an effective one at that. Rose wondered faintly if he could beat her mum in an argument over house elf laws. The only clear difference that Rose could discern in the thirty minutes they had been sitting across from each other was that he didn't have half the light banter that her mum had. He opened up a manila folder and started riffling through some papers.

"Does the kid always do that?" he nodded his head towards Hugo sitting in the round chair in the windowed room, his nose glued to a book.

"Only when he's really stressed," Rose said. "Which seems to happen a bit more than it used to."

He nodded and pulled a clicky pen out of his pocket, clicking it as he brought it down to his paper.

"So is that what you do all day?" Rose leaned forward on the table, her chin rested in her hands.

"Usually I'm in the study, but I don't want to leave the two of you alone in a foreign house." He made some marks.

"You have a study?"

"Yep. And a library, which your brother seems to already have found." He flipped over the page.

"You have a _library_? In your _house_?"

"Mmm. Most of it's textbooks from grad school and all that. Most of it's Nora's." He looked up from his papers. "She's an English professor, you know." He turned back to his folder.

"So you just…have a library?"

"We needed one. Originally, in our old house, all the books were in the sitting room. But there wasn't any room for Addie. So we moved."

Rose stared at him.

"Now all the books are in the library and there's plenty of room for everyone." He looked up and grinned for the first time, his hazel eyes melting like caramel. "And we're expecting, too. I'm hoping for a boy, myself, but don't tell Nora. She insists it's already a girl even though she's still in her first trimester." He chuckled to himself, shook his head, and got back to work, his countenance again descending into severity.

"So how old are you, Rose?"

"Fifteen."

"Boyfriend?"

"Um…it's…complicated…?"

"Fair enough. School?"

"Hogwarts."

"Oh, where is that? I've never heard of it."

"Well, no one knows for sure…but I heard it's somewhere in Scotland."

"You don't know?" he looked up from his folder with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you know about the wizarding world?" Rose asked casually, tracing patterns on the table.

"Mmm…is that what Audrey was talking about?"

"Yeah."

"Where magic exists and the slivers of wood you and Hugo carry around are more potent than guns?"

"Err..yeah…"

"Then, yes, I suppose I have heard of the wizarding world."

"Well, Hogwarts is a wizarding school, and its location is kept secret, so no one knows for sure where it is."

"Well, that's nifty. Do you want some lunch?" He stood up and straightened his tie.

"I guess so. Do you always wear a tie when you're alone?"

"I'm working. I'll change when Nora and Addie return."

"That's weird."

"What's weird is you sitting in my kitchen in pajamas at noon."

"Hey, I just got up an hour ago!" She crossed her arms and glared at him. He grinned at her and took some bread out of the breadbox and meat out of the fridge.

"Yeah, well I've been up since six. You have no excuse in my book." He slid a plate in front of her and resumed his seat. "It doesn't really matter, anyway. Do you have something to wear for Christmas eve?"

"Christmas eve? Why would I need to wear something particular for that?"

"Oh, um…we usually go to a service…and I just thought…if you don't want to go, that's fine."

"Well, I mean, I don't think it'll be a problem, will it?"

"No, I suppose not."

"So we have to dress up?"

"Hugo needs to at least wear a tie, and you should probably wear a skirt…that's a problem?"

"I don't really own any skirts…"

"I'm sure we can scrounge up something."

He bit into his sandwich and simultaneously marked his file.


	41. Chapter 41

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Hugo was already sitting in the front lounge, his nose buried in a book on muggle cars, his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw slack, his mind totally engaged, when Rose emerged from the guest room Christmas morning. She scratched her head and glanced at the tree in the corner, the way the presents spread under its branches. Without taking her eyes off the tree, she slipped into the kitchen. She stopped in the threshold.

"Uncle Harry, what are you doing here?"

Harry crossed his arms and looked at Rose, his lips pressed together and his eyes red. Fear surged through Rose. Something had happened. She blinked.

"What…what's wrong?" Her voice was little more than a whisper.

Uncle Harry sniffed, his eyes focusing on her.

"Your father…your father…he…he's dead."

"What?" Rose blinked.

"He died. Last night."

"H-how?" Her voice trembled and she found her knees beginning to shake.

Uncle Harry inhaled deeply and ran his hands through his hair.

"He…" Harry bowed his head and closed his eyes. "Last night, he hung himself from the ceiling fan in his room at St. Mungo's."

Rose's knees buckled under her weight, sending her to the floor. This couldn't be true, could it? She put her hands on the cold floor, her fingertips digging into the ceramic tile. He couldn't be dead. He was perfectly fine. This was just a joke. A bad dream. James under a polyjuice potion. Something. Not real, though. Definitely not…

"I'm sorry." Uncle Harry wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry. I never should have…" He started crying. Sobbing as he held the listless Rose.

Rose wrapped her arms around Uncle Harry and rubbed his back.

"It's…it's not your fault," she found herself saying softly. "He…he was cursed, right? There was no way…you could have known…"

"I-I should have put him under high security, Rose. I'm so sorry. So sorry…"

Another sound sob joined Uncle Harry's. Hugo. She tightened her grip around her uncle. This was real. She started crying, tears glazing her cheeks and wetting her shirt. This was real. Hugo was crying. Uncle Harry was crying. She was crying. This was real. Her hands grabbed hold of Uncle Harry's shirt, her hands fists at his back.

"W-why?" she muttered. "Why?"

"He thought there was no other way," Uncle Harry whispered, tears still pouring from his eyes. "He thought he was captured by…by the enemy…and…wouldn't give up any secrets…" His arms crushed Rose, his voice lowering to whisper in her ear. "He died like a Gryffindor, Rose. Like…like a Gryffindor…"

3

Red and gold, gold and red, a lion carved into the casket, people Rose didn't know, creatures Rose didn't know. She watched as a line of centaurs entered the procession by her father's casket, the gold trim glittering the cold December afternoon. She wrapped her arms around herself against the cold, against the reality. People muttered condolences to her. She forced a grin and nodded. She couldn't cry. She wasn't sure if it was because it was too cold or too crowded or too early or too something. Her mum cried, though, and so did Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry, all of her Uncles and Aunts did. Every last one of them sobbed in the seats set up outside of the castle.

The Administrator of the Auror Department, Draco Malfoy, made an appearance and put an envelope on the casket. It was addressed to her mother. She didn't touch it. Other tokens joined the envelope. Stuffed animals, flowers, letters. The line to touch his casket stretched across the field.

Rose never would have thought this many people knew her father. Later, Professor Longbottom explained it to her. It wasn't that they knew him. It was that they respected him. During the war, he had been at the forefront with Harry Potter. He had defeated Lord Voldemort.

"He had defeated Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes, and your mother."

"When?"

"A lifetime ago, Rose. A lifetime ago."

"So all of these people…"

"Your father is a crucial part of the Golden Trio." Professor Longbottom looked down at Rose, tears in his eyes. "He won't be easily forgotten."

"Weren't you a part of the Golden Trio, too, Neville?"

"No, no I wasn't. I was a part of Dumbledore's Army within the school."

"What was it like?"

"Terrifying and glorifying at the same time. In a second, all my deepest fears became a reality, and in another second my greatest dream became true."

"Was it the same for my parents?"

"The Golden Trio never discusses the war."

"I wish…I wish they had…"

"A lot of people wish the same. Hermione used to talk about writing about it…she never has. Maybe when she's older." Neville sighed. "This is going to be difficult on her, you know, losing your father."

"I know."

"You're going to have to take up some more responsibility."

Rose nodded and looked at Hugo crumpled in a chair, Aunt Audrey gently rubbing his back and Uncle Percy sitting stoically next to him.

"It's going to be hard on Hugo, too," she muttered. "He used to want to be just like him, you know. Now…now he wants nothing to do with him. He's even toyed with the idea of dyeing his hair. I told him it was a bad idea." Neville chuckled. "He doesn't understand. How he died, you know?"

"I have a feeling if the ministry allowed the details to be released, a lot of people won't understand."

"He died to protect the ministry's secrets. He died…he died to protect us…" She looked up at Neville, tears blurring her vision. "He died like a Gryffindor."

"He died like he lived, Rose. That's all anyone could ask for." Neville wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her tight while she cried silent tears.

3

Trees flew by the window of the train faster than Rose thought they should. Her hands tightened around her knapsack, a knot in her throat. She wasn't sure she was ready to go back to Hogwarts. She was positive Hugo wasn't ready. The kid hadn't taken his nose out of a book all vacation and wouldn't even talk to Uncle Percy about what was going on. She just hoped he had opened up to Al.

"Hey," Greg said, collapsing across from her and stretching his legs.

"What do you want?" she asked, not looking away from the mesmerizing blurs of tree trunks.

"Nothing."

"Obviously something."

"I'm sorry about your dad."

"Yeah. A lot of people are."

How many times had she heard that over the course of a week? She never even thought about the apathy that can be stored behind them. The only person she thought honestly meant them was Mr. Malfoy. He seemed to be the only one who fully understood what that meant. 'I'm sorry about your dad.' Most people were sorry about losing a great wizard, not a father. But Mr. Malfoy…he knew what he was saying. Rose glanced up at Greg, at his eyes focused on her face and his body spread across the seat. He meant it, knew what he was saying.

"This is a lot to handle, isn't it?" Greg asked. "Between Chris and Al and now your father?"

Rose looked at him. Chris. She hadn't even thought about him. Not since she went to her uncle's house. She wrapped her arms around herself. He was gone, too. Dead. Maybe alive. It didn't matter. He wasn't there and he wasn't at Hogwarts and she couldn't see him. He was dead.

She shrugged.

"If there's anything you need help with or that I can help you with, Rose, just let me know, ok? I'm more than happy to be of service."

"Thanks."

"You don't mean that."

"Of course not." She looked up at him. "I'm a Gryffindor and I'm a Weasley. I'm proud and I'm stubborn and those sorts of things don't go away easily."

Greg grinned and folded his hands behind his head. "Yeah. That sounds like you." He flashed his teeth. "So have you kept up to date on the Cannon news?"

"I…I don't want to talk about quidditch right now," Rose said, the words foreign to her lips. She didn't want to talk about quidditch?

"When don't you want to talk about quidditch?"

Rose shrugged and watched the trees continue to fly by, ignoring the ache in her chest telling her that something wasn't right with her. One tree…two tree…three tree…

"Rose?" Greg leaned forward in his seat, his elbows on his knees and hands clasped in front of him.

"I don't want to be here." She looked at him, a bit surprised. He didn't even have to pry at all to get that out of her. "I…I don't want to go back…" She surprised herself by continuing to talk. "I don't want to go around pretending like nothing's changed. Something has changed. I know it has. I just…don't know what…and…" She shook her head and looked back out the window. "I don't know."

"It's alright," he said. "To not know."

"Well, what'm I supposed to do? I can't just…ugh." She shook her head. "There's nothing…"

"Just be yourself, you know? Do what you want. It'll be fine, in the end."

"I want to go home. I want to curl up in my bed with a book. I want to…I want to eat chocolate and drink coffee and be anywhere but Hogwarts."

There was a knock on the door and a Ravenclaw opened the compartment.

"We're getting close to Hogwarts," the prefect said. "Get ready."

She closed the door.

Greg stood up and grabbed his knapsack off the floor.

"I'll be back. I'm just going to change. Ok?"

"Yeah. That's fine."

Greg slipped out of the compartment and down the hallway. Rose leaned back against the seat for a few seconds before beginning to change.


	42. Chapter 42

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…

3

Rose slipped between the covers in her bed in the dormitory. Her arms wrapped tightly around the pillow, clutching the red fabric to her chest as if it was the only thing in the world keeping her afloat. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back a wave of tears and an overwhelming sense of falling. Her chest tightened and her stomach knotted. There was nothing she could do. There was nothing she could say. There was nowhere she could go. Her throat aching, she cried until she fell asleep.

3

Potions. Transfiguration. Charms. Care of Magical Creatures. Divination. Astronomy. Runes. Defense Against the Dark Arts. All of it seemed the same. Excessive reading, excessive essays, excessive chastisements about how the outcome of this year will dictate the rest of their lives. The rank on the wall by the Great Hall meant nothing anymore. Nor did the marks on her papers or the comments Professor Wolfe gave her. She didn't care about the way the Goblin Rebellion was shaping up or the uses of unicorn blood. She learned it anyway. Good retention. But that didn't matter.

She reached down and picked up another quill from her bag, one that wasn't snapped in half by unsteady fingers.

"What're you doing?" James asked, sitting down across form her.

"Studying," she replied, dipping her quill in ink and starting to scribble across the page about polyjuice potion.

"Alright, come with me." He grabbed her wrist, making her scratch a black line across the paper.

"James!" she pulled away from him and carefully tried to blot up the ink. No use.

"I'll copy it later," he said, dragging her away from the table.

"But then Wolfe will think I cheated!"

"You care what Wolfe thinks? Fred and I need to pull off the exploding toilet this year."

"Why?"

"It's our last," he replied.

"You still have half a year!"

"NEWTs. You know how much of a time consumer standardized tests are, don't you? And, besides, our mums've already yelled at us enough for one school career. Besides, we've both got some vendetta's against Slytherin Headboy, you know." He grinned and cracked his knuckles. "That'll be taken care of quickly."

3

Rose gently nudged the last piece of the explosive device into place with Fred's wand, loving the feel of the foreign wood under her fingertips. It had been awhile, hadn't it? She looked down at the sleek wand, a bit bigger than hers, and grinned. Too long, to be sure.

"You're installing this in the Slytherin bathrooms, correct?" Rose screwed the top to the device on, the small explosive no bigger than a matchbox.

"Yep," James said. "I'm using the invisibility cloak and Fred's polyjuicing into the headboy."

"Are you sure it's the headboy?" Rose asked, trying desperately not to set off the box by mistake.

"Mhmm. I already have a sample. Got it from Greg."

"Alright. Just making sure."

"We're brewing the potion, now. "

"Where?"

"Moaning Myrtle's room. We figured no one would go in there."

"Sounds solid."

"Definitely. In a month, Slytherin is going to be in an uproar."

3

"OWLs," Professor Longbottom said, pacing back and forth in the greenhouse. "Are the most important tests you will ever take. Second to your NEWTs, of course. But nonetheless, you must take them with the utmost severity and solemnity you can possibly muster. Do you understand? A single mistake can uproot all your plans for your entire life. Being Gryffindors yourself, I am sure you all understand what that means."

Rose looked around at the other fifth years crammed into Professor Longbottom's greenhouse, the stench of compost filling the small enclosed area.

"Now, when you arrive to your tests, please leave anything you bring with you with the proctors who will be standing at the doors. The only thing you are permitted to bring into the testing area is your wand."

"Can we wear our robes?" some troublemaker in the back shouted.

"Please do," Professor Longbottom continued. "if not, then you will be escorted out. Use your heads. You aren't first years, to be sure, and you are far from toddlers. The school does expect greatness out of each and every one of you. And it reaches farther than just school loyalty, but to house pride."

"Huzzah!" one of the troublemaker's friends shouted. He was received by a chorus of 'huzzah's and also some dark chuckles.

"Huzzah indeed," Professor Longbottom said. "The test is split into two sections; the written and the practicum. Written first. It is comprised of multiple choice and essay questions spanning all subjects you have studied this far in your Hogwarts career. The practicum is fairly straightforward. Some of it is oral, others procedural. It's not as difficult as the sixth years will make you believe. It is a lengthy process and will encompass all day Saturday and Sunday." Grudging groans of protest echoed throughout the greenhouse. "Yes, yes, it's a terrible crime, but it's a rite of passage. The ministry has yet to come up with a more efficient program. Take it up with the Prime Minister. Now go study."

3

Rose turned the page of her History of Magic book and found herself groaning at another four pages on the Goblin Rebellion. As if she didn't already know this inside and out. She sighed and trudged through it, hoping to strengthen her grasp on the matter.

"What're you doing here still?" Greg asked, pausing at a shelf, his hand on the binding of a potions book.

"Studying," Rose muttered, trying desperately not to lose the delicate strand of thought.

"Why are you still studying? You've been here all day."

"This coming from a Ravenclaw?" She bit her tongue and turned the page.

"No. This coming from a kid who wants to go to Hogsmeade with a friend but who is friends with all older students. I can't take James and Fred away from their N.E.W.T. training. You know they need to study far more than you do."

She glanced up at him, her lips pressed together.

"Come on, Rose, you know you want to."

"No I don't."

He sat down across from her and stared, his blue eyes piercing through her skull as she tried to read about how many times the goblins were slaughtered before they gave in to the wizards…or did they? Damn it. She couldn't focus with him staring at her. She groaned.

"Have I won yet?"

"No." She re-read the page. He was still there.

"I'm not going to Hogsmeade with you."

"Really?" Greg leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

"Yes."

Greg smirked.

3

AN: So, I have to a apologize. I think Fred and James may have skipped the remainder of their sixth year and warp speeded through their seventh. I can't remember what year they're supposed to be. So for the sake of my brain…let's just say seventh.


	43. Chapter 43

Disclaimer: I've read it, and I've seen it, but I don't own it. 

"What's your opinion on these?" Greg asked, picking up a piece of candy from the shelf.

"Blood suckers? You've got to be kidding me. They really are terrible. Good if you have a hankering for some iron, though," Rose turned back to the impressive chocolate sculpture that was currently melting itself down and reconstructing itself into a house elf.

"What about these?"

"Shock-O-Chocs? I'm immune to them now. When I was younger, James and Fred would give me them and tell me they were just regular chocolate pieces. I'd shove puking pastels down their throats after, of course." Rose took the small sample from him and turned it around in her hands. "I don't know why I ever believed them. Pfft. It doesn't even look like real chocolate."

Greg chuckled and put it back on the shelf.

"Cockroach cluster?" Rose held up a bag of the scurrying candies.

"Nope. I can't ever get them down well enough. They always crawl back up."

"How does that happen? Do you swallow them whole?"

"I can't bring myself to chew. Makes me feel like I'm eating real cockroaches."

"James loves these things. He says he likes it when they ooze their cherry insides into his mouth." Rose shook her head and dropped it back into the barrel.

"Is this gum any good?"

"It's only the best bubble blowing bubblegum ever invented. You've never had it?"

"No." Greg picked up a piece and twirled it in his fingers. "Is it really that good? I have a feeling it isn't."

"I haven't had it in forever. We used to blow bubbles all the time and see whose would pop first. James's always did. Vicky's was always the last."

"What about yours?"

"I could never get a good enough bubble." Rose grinned and tossed the piece of gum she had picked up back onto the display.

"I think I'm going to get some."

"You should."

"What about licorice wands?"

"Not a fan of licorice."

"No?"

"No."

"Pepper imps?"

"No."

"Spindel's spiders?"

"Er…no."

"Do you like anything?"

"Um…Peppermint toads aren't bad. Strawberry chocoballs. Fizzing Wizbees aren't too unpalatable. Sherbert balls, if they're done right."

"What do you mean 'if they're done right'? They're just hard candies, you know."

"Yeah, but I've had a few that just weren't…right. I don't know if it was just a bad batch or if the watermelon ones are just disgusting. I'm not sure. But I definitely know the cherry ones are absolutely disgusting." She shuddered.

"What's your favorite candy?"

"Um…I don't know."

"You have to have a favorite, Rose."

"Well…you're going to laugh at me."

"Why would I laugh at you?"

"Because they're…I don't know…childish…I guess?"

"Why would I laugh at you for that?"

Rose shrugged and glanced at the Bertie Bott's in the window.

"What is it?" Greg nudged her with his elbow.

"You seriously want to know?"

"Yeah."

"And you won't laugh?"

"I can't promise that."

Rose groaned and picked up a package of crystallized pineapple, turning it around in her hands delicately.

"I know for a fact that that is not your favorite," Greg said, glancing down at her. "Because that, Rose, is an old lady candy."

"Well, if you're such an expert on Honeydukes candy, why don't you tell me what my favorite is?"

"Acid pops?"

"Are you kidding? Those things burn right through your motuh if you're not careful."

"How about Bertie Bott's?"

"Nope. I had a cotton flavored one once that completely ruined it for me."

"String mints?"

"Don't mind them, but no."

"Toffee?"

"We both know that's an old lady candy."

"No it isn't! I happen to like toffee very much, thank you."

"Well, it still doesn't change the fact of no."

"Sugar quills?"

"No."

"Ice mice?"

"Please. Like I would be caught dead eating one of those. Have you ever tried to _talk_ after eating one of them? Impossible to debate quidditch in that state."

"Nougat?"

"No."

"Coconut ice?"

"Nope. Hate the stuff."

"Then what? There isn't anything else but the blood suckers. Fizzing Wizbees?"

Rose shook her head.

"Then what?" Greg threw his arms out in frustration and nearly hit a first year in the face. The kid squealed and ran away. Greg looked horrified and nearly turned to chase after him. Rose reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Chocolate frogs."

"What? Seriously?" He forgot about the kid now permanently scared of the Ravenclaw beater.

She nodded, grinning sheepishly.

"Wow…I…wouldn't expect that out of you. I definitely pegged you as a sherbert ball sort of person. He scratched the back of his head. "Really?"

"Yeah."

He looked over at the glass display of chocolate frogs jumping against the glass tank they were stored in before packaging.

"Do you want one?" He pulled out some sickles.

"No."

"Come on, Rose, how can you not want one?"

"I'm not going to let you buy me candy, Greg."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not going to let you." She crossed her arms.

Grinning, he went over to the chocolate frogs and picked a few out, putting them in one of the bags next to the display. Without so much as looking at Rose, he paid for his candy and went to leave.

"Here," he said, throwing the chocolate frogs to her.

"I don't want them." She tossed them back.

"I don't like chocolate frogs."

"Then you shouldn't have bought them."

"So you're seriously just going to let them go to waste? What kind of a Weasley are you?"

"No. I'm not buying it."

"It's already bought."

She glared at him. He just laughed.

"Alright, I guess I'll just put the poor, wonderful, delicious, fresh chocolate frogs into the trash can…" He held them over the garbage bin.

Rose snatched them out of his hand.

"You're impossible!" she shouted, stuffing them into her bag. "Threatening to throw away perfectly good candy like that…"

"Come on," Greg said, looking around the dark street. "I think it's time we were getting back."

"Yeah."

They began to walk back, the setting sun casting dusky light on the white snow around them.

"I can't believe I let you do this," she said, shaking her head.

"Do what?"

"Take me away from studying for an entire afternoon. If I fail the O.W.L.s, I'm blaming it on you, you know."

"You won't."

"And how do you know?"

Greg grinned at her.

"What?" she demanded, nearly stopping in her tracks.

"I just…never mind." He shook his head and kept walking. She stopped. "Rose?"

"What is it?" she crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow, her lips pressed together.

"I just…it's that…I don't know."

"Yes you do."

Greg sighed and lowered his gaze, staring at the muddy path. "I just…I'm glad that you're back."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Greg looked up, an aghast look on his face.

"Well?"

"I'm not telling." He continued walking, a spring in his step.

"What do you mean you're not telling? Greg!" She hurried to catch up with him as he passed through the Hogwarts Gates. "Greg!"

3

"Where were you yesterday?" Libby asked, stretching out her bed.

"Greg accosted me in the library and kidnapped me to Hogsmeade."

Libby sat up and looked at her roommate with a suspicious look.

"Greg brought you to Hogsmeade?"

"Because Fred and James were studying. He didn't have anyone else to go with."

"Were you studying?"

"The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin knows I don't need to pound that stuff in my mind any more than I already have."

"So, let me get this straight. You went with Greg to Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah."

"And…"

"And…what?"

"And…what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, come on, Rose!" Libby jumped off her bed and pounced next to Rose. "Everyone knows he has the biggest crush on you."

"No he doesn't." Rose rolled her eyes and picked up a potions book off the floor. She opened to the chapter on Wolfsbane derivatives.

"You're blind, girl." Libby took the potions book away and threw it on Tony's bed. "Blind as bat in daylight. Listen to me. I know you don't want a relationship right now, ok? But he might not know that. Do you see what I'm trying to say?"

"Yes, and it doesn't matter because Greg understands…"

"He's a boy, Rose. He's a boy and he's going to try to do something to get in his pants."

"Merlin, Libby! Is that all you ever think about?" She reached down and picked up a book on transfiguration from her bedside table.

"Now is not the time for reading." Libby flung the book on Diane's bed.

"I have O.W.L.s coming up very soon and I have to…"

"Listen to me, will you? You're impossible, sometimes. What did he do?"

"Um…we went to the Three Broomsticks, had some butterbeer, went to Honeydukes and he got some candy…"

"What kind of candy?"

"Bubblegum and chocolate frogs."

"He doesn't like chocolate. Why did he buy chocolate frogs?"

"Ugh. Leave me alone, will you?"

"He bought you candy, didn't he? Why, I'm gonna…"

"Libby!"

"What?"

"Stop it! It isn't a big deal. I can be friends with a guy. It's not like it's the end of the world."

Libby looked at her suspiciously.

"He doesn't want to be your friend."

"Libby…"

"Look, just don't come crying to me when I'm right again, got it? You should have learned by now to listen to people when they have something to say."

Libby stood up and stormed from the room, slamming the door to the dormitory. Rose stared at her blanket.

3

There was a noise at the foot of her bed. Rose ignored it and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow.

"James! Get your lazy behind in here!" Someone whispered feverishly.

"Its…not…my…fault!" he shouted up the stairs. There was a bit of thumping and heavy breathing. "Why did you have to use _satin_ sheets?"

"Shut up, she's still sleeping," a low voice muttered.

"Why're there so many boys in our room?" Annie asked sleepily.

"Shush. Go back to bed," Tony ordered.

"Why is that fourth year in a dress?"

"It's not a dress, first of all," the low voice said quickly. "It's a _hakama_."

"It's a dress."

"No it isn't!"

"Lorcan!" a girl snapped. Was it Molly? "Shut your fucking face." Yeah. It was Molly.

Rose groaned and opened her eyes.

A handful of people stood at the end of her bed: Fred, James, Cory, Lorcan, Lysander, Molly, Greg, Tony, Frank, Alice, and a kid she didn't recognize. Groaning even louder, she buried herself under her blankets.

"Happy birthday!" Fred shouted, throwing something at her.

"Leave me alone!" she said. "Let me sleep!"

"Why would we do such a logical thing as that? Don't you know us better by now?" Molly asked, filing her nails casually as she spoke.

"Come on, we have a surprise planned for you."

"Why don't you let me sleep in? It's a Sunday, for crying out loud!"

"Uh…no. Come on."

Molly quickly pulled away her blankets and gave them to Cory who proceeded to slide down the stairs with them.

"You guys are mean," Rose muttered, stepping into a pair of jeans.


	44. Chapter 44

Disclaimer: I've read it, and I've seen it, but I don't own it. 

3

Rose couldn't help but grin when Lily and James pelted the back of Fred's head with snowballs when he was kissing Tony. She couldn't help but laugh when Fred chased down James and threw him into the snow. She couldn't help but feel awkward when Greg sat down on the front steps of the castle right next to her, so close their thighs were almost touching, his eyes looking intensely out across the field and a grin on his lips, his calloused beater hands clasped on his lap.

"I can't wait to beat them to a pulp on Saturday," Greg said. "We've been working on some new formations that I don't think the Slytherins can keep up with. Have you seen them?" Greg glanced at Rose.

Immediately he caught onto her discomfort.

"Is something wrong, Rose?"

"No. I'm fine." She didn't look at him.

"Honestly? I highly doubt that. You look like someone who's scared out of her mind."

"Nothing's wrong, Greg." She folded her arms and looked at the ground.

"I don't believe you. Come on, you can tell me anything."

Rose looked at him, his eyes staring at her with a sort of tenderness only Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry had shown her.

"The girls insist you like me."

"Of course I do. You're hard not to like, you know."

"I didn't mean like that. I meant like…like girlfriend-boyfriend like."

Greg opened his mouth. His face flushed red.

"Damn it! How could they be fucking right?" Rose jumped up. "And how could you like me like that?" She grabbed her back and flung it over her shoulder. "You of all should be people should know I'm not interested." She started to walk away.

Greg jumped up and followed her.

"Listen to me for a second," he said, his voice low and pleading.

She kept walking.

"Rose, please. I know, ok? I know you don't want to get involved."

She stopped walking.

"And I don't intend on making any moves on you or anything. That's just ridiculous. I just want to be friends." He stopped a little ways behind her. She could hear him breathing. "Can we be friends?" He took a step closer. She could feel his body heat the frigid air between them. "I don't think anyone can give me the quidditch debate that you can."

Rose glanced over her shoulder. He looked optimistic, his eyebrows raised.

"Merlin, Greg," she muttered, continuing to trek up the stairs to the entrance. "How can I say no to quidditch debate?"

"I dunno. Where're you going?" he hurried after her.

"Studying."

"On your birthday?"

Rose smiled over her shoulder. "O.W.L.s aren't exactly next year." She slipped down a passage to the library.

"I don't think so." He grabbed her wrist. "That is the last thing I'm going to let you do. Come on, or I'll get Fred and James."

"No."

She slipped down a side passage and then a conjoining side-passage. When she heard him rush by, calling her name, she knew she lost him.

She was going to have to be careful around him, not give him the wrong message. She slid down the rest of the passage and ended up right outside the library. Sinking into her usual chair, she cracked opened a potions book and got started.

3

James stretched his back and then hunched over the table, groaning as he picked up his quill.

"What's wrong?" Rose muttered, scratching down a few last words on her potions essay.

"My shoulders are tight. Fred didn't stick around long enough to stretch me properly," he muttered, rolling his shoulders.

"Why'd he do that?" Frank muttered, a sugar quill clenched between his teeth.

"Why do you think?" James nodded in the direction of Fred, who was sitting on the floor, with Tony sitting in a chair behind him, kneading his shoulders.

"That's gonna kill him later," Rose said, turning back to her essay.

"What do you mean?" Frank snapped his sugar quill between his teeth.

"It's not getting the deep muscles that're going to tighten up. I hope you guys don't mind getting slammed in the Hufflepuff game." She blew on the wet ink, careful not to smudge Wolfe's essay.

"So what's going to happen to me if I'm not even getting that much?" James jumped up, throwing his arms around like a fish out of water. He started to twist and contort, a grimace on his face.

"That's not going to work," Rose sighed, letting her parchment roll into a neat scroll.

"Then what is?"

"You really want to know? I don't even think you two do it right." Rose glanced at James, suspicious.

"If it relieves this stiffness, then yeah."

"It might hurt more than Fred's treatment."

"I think a lot might hurt more than Fred's treatment." James glanced at his cousin.

"Alright, then get on the floor, if you're sure."

"The floor?" Frank looked suspicious.

"Unless you want to go upstairs and try it on the bed. But I think the floor will give more support. The bed might be too soft."

"If you two weren't related…" Frank muttered. James punched his arm. Frank flinched and rubbed the affected area. "Don't do that. You're a beater. You aren't harmless."

"I know," James said, standing up. He sprawled on the floor, his arms out wide and his eyes focused on the ceiling.

"Turn over," Rose said, nudging him with her toe. He flopped onto his stomach.

Rose knelt on his back and started to pull and tug his arms and push and prod his shoulders. James valiantly stood still despite the sure grimace on his face.

"Roll over."

He moved before Rose could get up and she ended up pinned underneath him.

"James!"

"What? I can't move."

"James!" She tried to wiggle out from under him, but her legs were securely pinned under his formidable beater body. "James!" She tried to hit him. He just groaned. "For the love of Merlin!" He didn't move. "Frank! Frank! Help me, here, he's breaking my leg!"

"Are you really in pain?" Frank asked, standing up and immediately kneeling besides the motionless James.

"No she isn't," James said. "Or she would be yelling louder and your father would be bursting in here, yelling at me for pinning a defenseless fifth year to the ground. She's perfectly fine."

"Get off me, James!"

"Get off?" he grunted.

"Get off!"

"Rose, if you aren't strong enough to nudge dead weight off of you, then you don't deserve to be free."

"Shove it!" She tried to wriggle out with minimal success. "Damn it! Why do you weigh so bloody much?"

"Careful," Frank said, his prefect badge shining in the torch light. "There are younger students in this common room right now, do you understand?"

"Aw, little Frankie decided to put his prefect hat on for once in his dear life?" Libby teased from across the room.

"Shove it," Frank said, his cheeks red. "I do my duties right and fine, thank you very much." He crossed his arms and glared at Libby across the room. The sixth year started laughing, bringing more color to Frank's cheeks. He stood up and went to the boy's common room.

"Seriously, James, get off me." Rose struggled against him.

"Ugh. I think you broke me."

"I didn't break you, Potter, now get off!"

"No,Weasley, I'm not going to. You broke me."

"I didn't fucking break you!"

"Rose Weasley!" Professor Longbottom shouted from the entrance to the common room. "James Potter! Get off of her, right now!"

James groaned and rolled over away from Rose.

"Detention! Both of you!"

"Professor!" Rose jumped up, furious. "I didn't even do anything! I was just trying to loosen James up after a quidditch practice!"

"Cussing in the common room, Rose? I do believe that qualifies as detention worthy." Professor Longbottom looked severely at the Weasley. Rose rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Tomorrow four o'clock in my office. Both of you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Rose muttered.

"I'll be there," James said, giving Longbottom a grin and a thumbs up.

Professor Longbottom nodded and left, leaving Rose fuming in the common room.

"Alright, let's finish this," James said, sprawling out on the floor.

"Like hell we're finishing this," Rose grumbled, grabbing her things off the table and heading towards the dormitory.

"What's got your knickers all in a twist?" James said.

"Oh, you mean other than the fact that I try to do one thing for you and it ends up with me in detention?"

"Pfft. You're just sore because you've never had detention with Longbottom. The worst he has you do is re-pot mandrakes. It isn't like you have to scrub Wolfe's cauldrons. _That_'s the terrible one." James shuddered.

Rose rolled her eyes and made her way to the common room to finish her transfiguration.

3

"James," Rose said, sitting across from him at dinner. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he muttered, pushing his mashed potatoes around his plate.

"Obviously something."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"James…"

"What?"

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because I don't want to." He looked up, his blue eyes full of conflict. "Besides, it's none of your business."

"Come on, you're my cousin. If something's bothering you, then I ought to know. Maybe I can help."

"You can't help."

"James, you don't even know, yet."

"I know. You can't help."

"James!"

"I really don't want to deal with this right now," James muttered. He stood up, leaving his plate full, and went back to Gryffindor Tower.

3

Greg sat down next to Rose in the library, a hefty tome under his arm.

"Do you know what's up with James?" she asked immediately, not looking up from her herbology essay.

Greg opened the tome on his knee and ran his finger over the rough parchment.

"Yes," he replied.

"You do?" She looked up from her essay.

"Yes."

"And…?"

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers, his bottom lip secure between his teeth. He shook his head.

"I can't tell you," he said.

"Why not?"

Greg sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"Greg…"

"No."

"He's my cousin. It's not right that you know, but I don't."

"I don't think many people in your family know, yet," Greg muttered.

"It has to do with my family? And you still won't tell me?" Her hands clenched on the table. "That's ridiculous. How would you feel if I kept something from you?"

"I…"

"Come on! This is ridiculous!" She slammed her fist against the table.

"Be quiet. We're in the library."

"Then maybe we should take this outside."

"Rose, please…"

"Please what? Please stop caring about my family?"

"Trust me. You don't want to know."

"Damn it!"

"Rose!" Greg looked around, afraid someone would hear them. "Quiet down."

"I'm not going to…"

He slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Ok, Rose, here's the deal."

"You're going to tell me?"

"I…"

She bit his hand.

"Owe, what the…ugh!"

"Tell me, Greg."

The sixth year shifted uncomfortably.

"Greg, please…"

"Do…do you remember what…what happened to Al? At the end of last semester?"

"What are you…?"

"Chris cursed his leg."

Rose's stomach dropped.

"It has to do with that?" she muttered.

"Yeah. Are you satisfied?"

"I thought…I thought he was getting better?"

"So did the healers…" Greg diverted his gaze.

"What…what happened?" Rose's voice stuck in her throat. Greg turned the page of his book. She put her hand on his wrist. "What happened?"

"I shouldn't be the one telling you this."

"You're the only one who will."

"He's going to have to repeat this year."

"I already knew that."

"Damn it." Greg clenched his jaw, his hands wrapped tightly around the cover of his book. "I don't want to fucking tell you, Rose."

"Then why are you telling me?"

He looked at her, his sharp gaze cutting through her.

"Because I'm the only one who fucking will."

"And…?"

"Why are you so pushy, Rose? Merlin…" He ran his hands through his hair. "I'm not going to tell you in the middle of the library."

"Fuck it, Greg, and just tell me."

He shifted and rubbed his face briskly.

"The curse wasn't fully healed by the healers. There were some lingering effects. His leg…it kind of…" Greg opened his book, his eyes scanning the page.

"Greg, what happened?"

"The curse was starting to spread." He turned the page.

"And…"

"And…and…they had to amputate his leg…"

Rose stared at him.

"It was a last resort option. It was going to get his organs. James just got the letter this morning. They aren't sure if Al will be able to play quidditch next year. That's why he told me. To prepare the team for the loss of their seeker. Personally, I just think he needed to tell someone. I don't think Fred knows. Don't say anything."

"Y-yeah…" Rose blinked and looked at her essay, a sinking feeling encompassing her body. "This…this is my fault, isn't it?" Her voice was small.

"No. It was an accident. Accidents happen."

"Most accidents can be avoided."

Greg sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you," he said. "This isn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done…"

"There was plenty I could have done." Rose threw her things in her bag.

"Rose…"

"No. Just…no." She shouldered her bag and walked by the shelves of books. Al. Amputated leg. No quidditch. Chris.

Chris.

Her hand tightened on her strap. Tears came to her eyes.

How could she have been such an ass? How could she have let them do that? How come she didn't stop them? How come she didn't say something? How come she just…she just let it happen?

She slipped into a side passage, tears streaming down her face, and slumped against the wall, her bag flopping next to her. She buried her face in her hands.

A large body sat down next to her without saying a word. It was Greg, the scent of his soap unmistakable. He didn't ask any questions. He didn't mutter any condolences. He didn't wrap his arm around her. He just sat there. Silent.

"I…I don't u-understand…" She turned to look at him, his eyes staring at the floor between his feet, his hands flat on the ground besides him. "I don't understand any of it…"

Greg looked over at her and gave her a wry smile.

"A lot of things we don't understand," he said, his voice rough and low.

She looked at him, resting her cheek on her knee.

"What doesn't a Ravenclaw understand?" she asked.

He struggled to swallow and looked back at the floor.

"What my mum ever saw in my father. Why my mum didn't just marry my step-dad to begin with. Why my mum died. Why I'm magic. Why the world doesn't stop for tragedy. Why I care so much. Why I'm alive." He tilted his head in her direction. "It's all a mystery. All we can do is take it in stride."

"I don't believe that."

"What?" Greg's eyes widened. "What isn't there to believe?"

"Just because we don't know the answer doesn't mean there isn't an answer, which means it's not a mystery."

"I never said it was a permanent mystery!"

"It was implied."

"You're impossible, Rose."

"I've been told that several times."

Greg shook his head and grinned.

"You're ridiculous," he muttered, turning his gaze to the floor.

"I've been told that one, too."

Rose pillowed her chin on her knees and stared at the stone wall. Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. If someone had walked by, he would have said neither of them was alive.


	45. Chapter 45

Disclaimer: I've read it, and I've seen it, but I don't own it. 

"Rose, come on, we're going to Hogsmeade," Diane said, nudging the still sleeping Gryffindor.

"Ugh," Rose grumbled, tightening her grip on her blankets.

"Don't make me get Libby!"

"Libby's not going," Annie said, applying lipstick.

"Why not?" Diane spun around.

"Talking with Tony about something or another. I think it has to do with Fred, but we'd better not talk about it without them here."

"So it's just us?"

"Don't sound so disgusted."

"I don't wanna," Rose groaned, wrapping her arms tightly around her pillow.

"What's wrong?" Annie sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I just want to sleep."

"You know we're not going to let you," Diane said.

"Well…"

Annie flicked her wand at the radio and the Weird Sisters started screeching.

"Try sleeping to that!" Diane shouted.

Annie started singing along and dancing around. Rose groaned at the off-key squeaking and thumping. Diane just laughed.

"Guys, I'm not in the mood today," Rose said, rolling over and spreading her arms out on the bed.

"It'll make you feel better."

"No."

"Rose, come on."

"Please?"

"No."

"What're you going to do instead?"

"Wash some cauldrons?"

"Sleep."

The door to the dormitory opened and Libby and Tony slipped in. Tony looked anxious, her hands nervously playing with the hem of her sleeve.

"You should go talk to him alone," Libby said to her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Good luck, Tony."

"Thanks." Tony gave her a wry grin and slipped back out.

"Where's she going? Isn't she coming to Hogsmeade?" Annie asked.

"Ah, she has…some business to take care of with Fred."

"What kind of business?" Diane pressed.

"She's breaking it off with him."

"She's what?" Rose sat up, her blankets falling off of her. "She can't do that!"

"Rose, calm down. This is none of your business," Libby said, idly crossing her arms.

"It's gonna kill him!"

"She knows, Rose. She knows," Libby said and sighed. "So are we going to Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah. I don't want to be here for that," Rose said, slipping into her Cannons sweatshirt and ratty jeans.

3

"…and then Wolfe walked in," Annie finished with a shudder. "Let's just say I haven't been there since. It's the Hufflepuffs, I'm telling you. They make way too much noise and alert the masses to the best spots." Annie shook her head. "It's getting ridiculous."

"Look who's looking," Diane muttered, twitching her butterbeer in the direction of the Ravenclaw quidditch team. Greg, the current captain, was furiously engaged in a discussion with his chasers.

"Not Greg, you twit," Annie said, stifling a laugh and hitting Rose on the arm. "Peter. Hufflepuff seeker. I told him no already and he won't leave me alone. Ugh."

"Rose!" Greg shouted suddenly across the Three Broomsticks, catching sight of her watching his discussion. "Wood or Swod?"

"Wood!" Rose stood up, outraged. "Who's suggesting otherwise?"

"Rose, sit down," Annie said, grabbing her wrist. "Don't let him get you so riled up."

"This has nothing to do with Greg." Rose tried to pull away.

"Are you that oblivious? Why do you think he didn't ask someone from the quidditch team? He wants to see _you_ riled up."

"You do get a nice tint to your cheeks when you're upset," Libby muttered and took a sip of her butterbeer. "He probably likes it."

Rose collapsed onto the chair.

"You guys are wrong," she said, crossing her arms.

"Then why didn't you storm over there and tear that chaser a new one?" Libby said.

"Because…"

"Because you think it's true."

"Shove it." Rose leaned back and crossed her arms.

"So do you think Peter will ever get the hint?" Annie asked.

3

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh-Merlin, oh-Merlin, o'Merlin, o'Merlin, omerlin, omerlin omerlin olmerlinomerlinomerlin…"

"Breathe, James!" Rose didn't look up from her book.

"Oh merlin, Rose! I don't think you understand!" James slammed his open palms on the table in front of her, his words reverberating through the common room.

"I understand right well, James."

"Fred won't leave his bloody bed! We have a Slytherin match in two days! How the hell is that going to work! We need a beater!"

"Use his second."

"Fred hasn't missed a game in almost five years! He doesn't _have_ a second!"

"Then use yours."

"I'm the goddamn captain, you think I have a second? Do you think I can afford to send that message to my team? God, you're terrible, Rose! I need a beater! And I need a beater _now_!"

"I'll play."

Rose looked up from her books. A fourth year stood behind him, her arms nervously crossed over her flat chest. James's eyes lit with a fire and spun around.

"Fuck me! I'm not letting a scrawny prepubescent _girl_ play opposite to my beater!"

"Hey!" She stepped forward and dug a finger into his chest. "I may be a _girl_, but I can play quidditch. Switch McCaffrey to beater and I'll play chaser."

"No! You haven't practiced at all. You aren't even on the roster!"

"Who else are you going to chose? Donovan? Please. He can't even hit a barn with a quaffle."

"You muggle born?"

"…My mum was a squib…but so what?"

"So what? So what, she says! _So_ if you're _muggleborn_ you obviously can't play quidditch as well as someone who was _born_ on a broom!"

"Tell that to your father, _Potter,_" she growled.

"Well played," Rose muttered, a grin on her lips. This girl really knew how to fight Weasley style. She was going to do well if the other Weasleys made it into Gryffindor.

"My _father_ was the product of two magical people, kid!"

"You think that matters? My genes are just as good as yours if I'm in Gryffindor _and_ have magic, you dumbass."

"_What_ did you just call me?" James's face quickly flushed red.

"Dumbass! Yeah, that's right! What're you going to do about it?"

"Bad move," Rose muttered.

"You think I'm a _dumbass_?"

"Well, if you don't play me, then yeah!"

"Ohohohoho!" James shook his head. "It's on, bitch."

"Do I look like a fucking bitch to you?" The girl pushed him. James didn't look like he knew what he was doing.

"Don't punch her," Rose said suddenly, looking up as James gathered the smaller girl in a headlock.

\"Oh, so mature, Potter," she said.

"What fucking year are you?" he demanded.

"Sixth."

"What?"

"Sixth!"

"Then why haven't I seen you around?"

"Homeschooled for three years."

"By who? You're muggle born!"

"Grandma."

"So why're you here now?"

"Dead."

James froze for a minute. Rose could see his memory churning.

"Were you close?" His muscles loosened.

"Obviously."

"Have you played quidditch before?"

"Harpeis recruitment program for the past four years. Beater."

"So are you going to play for the Harpies?"

"No. They're all a bunch of whores. Are you going to let me out any time soon, dumbass?"

"NO, bitch, now answer my questions."

"Fuck you."

"Who's the whore?"

"Shove it!" She squirmed against him, but he held her tight.

"Do you have a broom?"

"I figured I could use Weasley's."

"You're too small for his broom. You need to be a beast to use it."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying!"

"Then you're just a dumbass!"

"Shut up! I'm the freaking captain! I call the shots!"

"You're a dumbass if you think that just because you're captain you know best!"

"Rose, help me convince this bitch that I'm right!"

"Kid, you need a broom like a seeker model. The only problem is that it'll suck for beating," Rose said.

"And what year are you? Third? Like I'm going to listen to you!" The girl squirmed against James, who tightened up again.

"Fifth, for your information, and I know more about quidditch than James ever has or does!" Rose stood up, feeling the anger burn her stomach.

"Calm down, Rose," Libby said drolly, reclining on one of the couches. "She isn't worth your time. An asshole if there ever was one."

"Hey! I resent that!" the girl tugged against James's arms.

"Are you really decent at beating?" James asked, looking down at the brown haired girl in his arms.

"Yeah. Like I said. Harpies recruitment program. You gonna let me go, dumbass?"

"No. And I think I can find you a broom. Get on your damned robes, bitch, and meet me in the pitch in half an hour."

"You gonna make me strip in front of you or are you going to let me go back to my room?"

James looked down at her, not letting go.

"Is that a legitimate choice or are you being sarcastic?"

The girl's face flushed red, her eyes widening.

"Wow," Libby said. "Don't think I've ever seen Vi speechless."

James released her. She stood up, straightened her skirt and shirt, and fled up the stairs.

"Half an hour!" she said from the top of the stairs, wagging her fist in James's direction.

"Half an hour!" James echoed. "Rose, you want to join me?"

"I have to study for O.W.L.s." Rose bowed her head back to her book.

"Nerd," James muttered.

"Love you, too, James," Rose said as James slipped from Gryffindor tower and into the castle.


	46. Chapter 46

Disclaimer: I've read it, and I've seen it, but I don't own it. 

**3**

"Holy shit." Greg slammed his open palms on the table in front of Rose in the library, his face red and sweaty. "Jim's found a gem. Where the hell has she been hiding?"

Rose glanced around, making sure the section was deserted. There was just one first year muggle trying to get their cell phone to work. Harmless.

"What're you talking about?"

"Violet…have you _seen_ her? That girl has an arm and a half…Gryffindor's sure to win the cup this year…I swear it. I think she's ten times better than Fred, to be honest."

"Why are you in a tee shirt? It's school hours…"

"I just…I just had to tell you," he said, breathless. "I was just one the pitch with her…she flew circles around James, and you know how good of a flier he is…."

"About as good as my mum…"

"Oh, come on, Rose." Greg ran his hands through his hair. "You know he's at least at the level of a semi-pro keeper…"

"Which still isn't that good."

"It's still impressive, though. You have to admit it, Rose. She's like…I don't even know!"

"You just like it because she's a skirt."

"What? No." His face got redder. "She…she isn't even _that_ pretty. No. It's not because she's _just_ a skirt. She can fly, too."

Rose grinned and shook her head.

"What?" Greg crossed his arms.

"You might want to make a move before James does…"

"What? No! You've got it wrong." Greg's face turned purple. "I don't…"

"Whatever, Greg." Rose opened her book and started staring at the words.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"No?" She glanced up from her book.

"No."

Rose started laughing. Greg looked furious. Furious enough that Rose might have found out his deep dark secret. Furious enough that she might have seen through his ruse. Furious enough he might actually ask out Violet.

"I'm going to take a shower." Greg stumped out of the library. Disappointment wrapped around Rose's chest. She shifted uncomfortably. Greg was going to ask this girl out. So what? She looked down at her book -- Goblin rebellion. Again. Fucking shit.

She snapped the book closed.

Maybe transfiguration.

She opened the book and stared at the book, her heart throbbing against her chest, her vision unable to focus.

She snapped the book shut.

"Merlin," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "I just need a walk or something."

3

James sat on the armrest to Vi's chair, holding a thick notebook out for her to see. Plays. Rose rolled her eyes and tried to get back to the Runes essay she was supposed to have finished at the library earlier. His hand reached around her and rested on her far shoulder, his other hand pointing something out in the book. She didn't shy away from him.

"I think she likes him," Libby muttered, briefly glancing up from her diagram of a refrigerator. "All she's ever talked about for the past four days is how she and James are unstoppable and how the Slytherins are going down."

"Does he like her?" Rose muttered.

"Look at them and tell me."

James was practically sitting on her, his hand almost resting on her inner thigh.

"Are they going out?" Diana asked, settling on the other side of Libby.

"Not yet," Libby said. "Although I wouldn't be surprised to learn they'd shagged."

"Mmm…how does she manage to get _him_?" Diana crooned, resting her chin on her open palm. "She isn't even pretty. And he's…he's soooo dreamy…."

"Eww," Rose said.

"What the fuck do you mean this play's shit?" James hollered over the hum of the common room.

"You can't have your chasers clustered like that! It's just illogical! It's the best way to be conquered by a well-aimed beater attack!"

"That's been Gryffindor's signature move for years!"

"Years? Please. It's been out of date for _centuries_!"

"Like that's even reasonable, bitch!"

"Shut up, dumbass. You don't even know…"

James walked up to her and kissed her on the lips, holding her face aggressively.

She smacked him.

James pulled back, aghast, and she grabbed his head, pulling him close. She kissed him hard, backing him against the wall, his hands resting on her waist.

"Here we go again," Libby groaned, getting back to her work for Explorations in Muggle Life.

3

"So, Rose," Greg said, his voice biting with venom. "You couldn't have told me Vi was dating James?"

"I didn't know they made it official."

"Oh, they made it official alright. Why didn't you tell me?"

"What do you mean? I already told you. I didn't know they made it official." She started climbing the stairs to the fourth floor.

"Bull shit!" He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. "You just made me look like a fool in front of the entire Gryffindor quidditch team! How could you do that?"

Rose stared at him, at his red face and fisted hands, his narrowed eyes and set jaw, at his hand gripping her shoulder, pinching her skin, bruising her flesh.

"How, Rose? I thought you knew…fuck!"

Rose felt her body getting cold, her mind fuzzy, her vision blurred. Her heart pounded against her chest, her blood roared in her ears.

Greg brought a hand up. She flinched. He ran it through his hair. Then stopped. He let his hand fall to his side. Slowly, he released Rose from his grasp. He stared at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open, fear written all over his face. He turned around and ran down the stairs, leaving Rose standing at the top.

Rose blinked, rolled her shoulders, glanced at some of the younger students staring at her, and continued slowly up the stairs.

3

One week. Seven days. One hundred and sixty eight hours. Ten thousand and eighty minutes. Six hundred and four thousand eight hundred seconds. Six sleeps. And then it happened.

The O.W.L.s.

If Rose were to be honest, she'd have said she felt like she had died.

"Nah. It was easy," she said instead.

"You're crazy," Annie said, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun.

"You guys ready for summer?" Libby asked.

If Rose were to be honest, she'd say no. Not in a million years.

"Absolutely," she said instead.

"I can't wait to see my little brother," Tony said, tossing a rock into the lake.

"I can't wait to fly," Annie said.

"I can't wait to get drunk," Libby said. Tony hit her and laughed.

"Do you guys have any big plans?" Tony asked.

If Rose were to be honest, she would say that she planned on crying her eyes out for at least a week.

"Probably go to Shell Cottage a lot," she said instead.

"Oooh, can I come?" Annie asked.

Rose shrugged noncommittally.

"Rose?" She glanced up at Greg standing over her, blocking out the sun.

"Yeah?"

"Can I speak with you privately?"

"Um…I guess…" Rose stood up, her left foot slightly asleep, and limped after Greg to the quidditch pitch.

"I just wanted to apologize for what happened last week," he said. He sounded distant, removed, detached. "I shouldn't have grabbed you like that and I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I'm sorry."

He stopped walking in front of the pitch, his hands lodged in his pockets. He looked at the ground, his shoulders slouched forward.

"It's not that big of deal, you know." Rose crossed her arms.

He looked up at her, a confused look on his face.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"It's not like you did anything wrong. You were angry. I get that. It's not anything unusual."

"No, Rose. No." He shook his head, a confused, frustrated, fearful look on his face. "It's not…it's not ok. It's not ok to touch you in anger. Fuck, it's not really ok to touch you at all. What are you thinking?"

She looked at him blankly.

"Alright…." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Promise me something, then."

"What is it?"

"If anyone ever does that to you -- holds you tight, yells at you, hurts you -- promise me you'll tell me. And if I do it…_especially_ if I do it…yell at me back, hit me, kick me, do _something_ so I stop…"

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Because…because it's not _right_, Rose. That shouldn't happen."

"Yeah, but you shouldn't bottle up your anger, either…"

"I don't want to hurt you, Rose." He put his hands on her shoulders. "I don't ever want to see you hurt. Ever. If I ever hurt you -- if anyone ever hurts you -- tell me. Please. I want to be your friend. This is what friends do."

"…OK."

He sighed and bowed his head. "So your OWLs weren't too bad?"

"No, not really."

Greg started walking back to the rest of the group.

"Do you have any plans for the vacation?"

"Work, maybe. Depends."

"On what?"

"My mum."

3

"Hugo, what did you do to your hair?" Rose asked, crossing her arms as her brother approached the train with a short crew cut.

"Cut it." He shrugged and followed a fellow Ravenclaw onto the train. Rose shook her head and followed after Greg, sliding in behind him to the apartment with Fred, James, and Frank.

"It's over," James said, his voice small, as he looked out his window at the castle quickly fading behind them.

Fred nodded.

"We'll never be back on platform nine and three quarters unless its with our kids," Fred said. "We'll never be back at Hogwarts…"

"Unless our kids screw up royally, which they probably will with our background," James said, grinning fondly at the trees passing by.

"Damn, this sucks," Fred groaned. "We never even got to let all the house elves loose."

"Or put Gryffindor paraphenelia in the Slytherin bathroom."

"Or put Hufflepuff garbage in the Ravenclaw common room…"

"That's not funny," Greg said, crossing his arms. Fred, Frank, and James started laughing at him.

"What are we going to do, now?" Frank asked.

"Work at a joke shop in Hogsmeade until George gives us the heads up to open up in Godric's Hollow."

"Which won't be until Lou is old enough to work the Hogsmeade shop on his own," Fred reminded James.

"Yeah." They both glanced at Rose, but didn't say anything.

"Well, if anyone wants to come over my house, feel free. You all know my address, I think. I'll be there all summer."

"I'll definitely be by," James said. "Lily's been a total bitch lately. I can't wait to move to Hogsmeade. I doubt mum'll let me, though." He ran a hand through his hair. "I wonder if dad will…"

"Quidditch game Saturday," Frank said. "My place? Tornadoes and Possums."

"Of course. Your dad got a huge tv. Of course we'll be there."

"Actually, I'm going to my great-gran's house for the summer. She has a big tv, too, but it's about the size of yours, James."

"Ah, whatever," Greg said, leaning back in his seat. "It's all the same."

"Will Ali be there?" Rose asked.

"No. She's spending the summer with my mum's side."

"Then I'll be there," Rose said.

"What do you have against Ali?" James kicked her.

"She hates me."

"Hufflepuffs don't hate."

"This one does." Rose crossed her arms.

"So who's up for exploding snap?" Greg rubbed his hands together eagerly.


	47. Chapter 47

Disclaimer: I've read it, and I've seen it, but I don't own it. 

3

Hugo, Rose, Lily, James, Fred, Roxy, Lucy and Molly clumped together on the platform.

"Who's supposed to be driving us home?" Lucy asked, tucking a lock of hair off her face.

"I dunno. Usually Aunt Hermione picks us up at the end of the school year," Lily said, putting a hand on her hip and flaunting her green Slytherin tie. "Did your mother forget us, Rose?"

"Shut up or I'm going to give the attitude adjustment of your meager life, Potter," Rose snapped, crossing her arms.

"I'm going to send an Owl." Hugo opened up his cage and scribbled a note for Blue, their owl, and sent him off.

Ten minutes later, Percy apparated onto the platform.

"Sorry we're late," he said, adjusting his glasses. "Audrey should be here soon with the car. Let's get something to eat."

"Isn't my mum supposed to be picking us up?" Hugo asked, dragging his trunk after him towards the entrance to the platform.

"No. We…rearranged our schedules. Who wants a hamburger?"

The entire group filed into a restaurant, clumping together in a back corner. Rose sat next to Hugo, the two of them exchanging glances.

"Do you know what's going on?" Rose asked in low tones, ignoring Fred and James teasing the others about how much more schooling they have left.

"No," Hugo replied, picking up his cola. "I hope she's ok."

"Do you think something happened?"

"I don't know. I think we'd be informed if it was serious. But…she might be taking this harder than we thought." Hugo pushed the too short sleeves of his shirt up above his elbows.

"What do we do if she isn't ok?"

Hugo looked at her, a serious look on his face.

"We do what we can," he said.

"Hugo, Rose, what do you want?" Uncle Percy said.

"Chicken tenders," Hugo said. "And tomato bisque, please."

"Um…can I please have a cheeseburger?" Rose spun her straw in her cup absentmindedly.

"What are you going to do without us, Rosie?" James asked, teasingly wrapping an arm around his cousin.

"You mean actually have some peace?" She nudged him off, not amused.

"Oooh, harsh," Fred chuckled.

Rose ignored him and continued playing with her straw.

"It'll be fine," Hugo said. "I'll take care of anything that has to be done. Don't worry about it."

"Hugo," Molly said, "did you make it to any parties this year?"

Hugo glanced at Uncle Percy, his face horrified. Uncle Percy was occupied with a conversation with Lucy about the recent developments in magical creature control.

"Why are you asking him?" James asked. "He's Ravenclaw. They don't do parties. Gryffindor's the ones with the best parties."

"Have you ever been to a Ravenclaw party, James? They may seem like a bunch of stiffs, but they know how to throw a party in RoR. Not to mention they have, like, four other places throughout the castle they use."

"I don't go with that crowd," Hugo said, scratching the back of his head.

"Ugh. You're so boring, Hugo. Tell you what, I'll bring you to one next year."

The food came and Aunt Audrey came into the pub, sitting down next to Molly and giving her a look, effectively ending the conversation.

3

Uncle Percy carried Rose's trunk into their house and put it in their living room. The house was silent. Hugo dropped his stuff in the living room and started looking around.

"Mum?" he asked. "Mum?"

"She's in her study," Uncle Percy said, adjusting his glasses.

Hugo nodded and went to investigate.

"Be good to your mother, Rose," he said. "She's going through a difficult time."

"Yeah."

Hugo came out of their mum's study, his jaw tight, and started to make a sandwich.

"What are you doing?" Uncle Percy asked. "You just ate…"

"Mum didn't," he said, reaching into the fridge and pulling out the lemonade. "We need to go shopping." Hugo took the plate and glass and slipped back down the hallway.

"He continues to amaze me," Uncle Percy said.

"In what way?" Rose flopped down on the couch.

"He gets more and more like your father every year." He shook his head. "After the war, your mother was a wreck for months. Wouldn't talk to anyone. Most of us just…sort of gave up on her. She'd been through a lot. Her parents were still in Australia. Ron was the only one…the only one who stuck by her long enough to get through." He sighed. "Your mother is falling apart without him."

"How did they meet?"

"No one ever told you?"

"No. Mum and dad never talked about the past."

"Never?"

"Never."

"Well, they met at Hogwarts." He sat down in the chair. "The first day on the train, your mother came in and told your father he had dirt on his nose and that he wasn't doing magic right." Percy chuckled. "From that moment, I think he was smitten. When we were younger, we were pretty close. All he ever told me about was that annoying girl who was soooo annoying and absolutely unbearable."

"So, then, how did they fall in love?"

"I don't really know, to be honest. They just sort of grew close. You know? Your father refused to admit it for a while. Not until the war actually began. At least, that's what he told me. Your mum…I don't know. Ginny's told me she got really jealous of Ron's girlfriend. Makes me think it was then. But, I mean, I really don't know that much about it."

"So…they both fought?"

"Yes. They went with Harry to find the horcruxes…" Percy's speech slowed.

"Horcrux? What is that?" Rose sat up, a feeling of victory wrapping around her. No one in the history of conversations had ever mentioned a horcrux. It had all been vague, beating around the bush sort of comments.

"Your mum is going to kill me," Percy muttered, rubbing his face.

"Just tell me. I'm old enough to understand. My parents were…my parents were my age…"

"A year older."

"Whatever. It's all the same. Just tell me."

"Horcruxes are a form of the darkest magic imaginable."

"What are they, though?"

"It's like putting pieces of your soul in items. Like when you pour juice in cups. One cup can break, but you still have others full of juice. That's what Voldemort did. When he died the first time, there were still pieces of him alive he could resurrect."

"So…to fully kill him, you had to destroy the horcrux?"

"Yes."

"So that's what mum, dad, and Harry did?"

"Yes."

"How long did it take them to find the horcrux?"

"First of all, there were seven of them. Secondly, basically a year."

"How?"

"No one knows except your mum and Harry and probably Ginny."

Rose sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the breeze outside rattle the branches of the trees.

"Why did my parents adopt me?"

Uncle Percy shifted slightly on the chair.

"Your parents tried for about six years to have a child. Right after they got married, their goal was to have babies. It…didn't work out the way they wanted. It was difficult on them, especially your mother. She felt the pressure from mum to have a lot of kids, and they both knew it wasn't something wrong with Ron. Your mum had three miscarriages. The treatments the healers gave them weren't working. They stalled for two years before applying for adoption through the magical agency. They got you. One and a half year old Rose, registered as a pureblood, parental information confidential. You took to your father right away. Your mum was worried you'd hate her. You adapted well. Better than most thought. From a young age, Hermione tried to cultivate intelligence. Reading, writing, discussing. When she was in her first trimester with Hugo, Ron told me he came home to the two of you sleeping on the floor with a picture book in your lap and _Hogwarts A History_ in hers. There's a couple of pictures somewhere, I'm sure. I could look for them, if you wanted."

"How long had my father been an auror for?"

"Since the war. He made it out to seem like he was just working for George for a long time. A good three years before Hermione found out. She was livid for months. Ron lived with Harry and Ginny for a time. Hermione fell apart a bit. Tried to get a divorce. Ron talked her out of it." He sighed. "He was a good auror. He was the force behind opening up the Order of the Phoenix, which has become the elite division of the auror department. Always behind the scenes, though. Always. We were all afraid if he came out, then his family -- you -- would be targeted. What he wanted more than anything else was a normal life for you." He grinned wryly. "If he thought it would end like this, I doubt he would have done it. Honestly, Rose, this was not his intention."

"I know."

"He worked closely with Harry a lot of the times. But he detested desk work. Harry kept assigning him to missions. Your mother fought with him over it a lot. Never here. Never in front of you. Usually at the ministry. The last one was…the last one was just before he left on his last mission. They were…they were investigating the Sweden Dark Wizards Cells in the mountains. Hermione thought it was too dangerous. Ron said he was the only one Harry trusted with the assignment. Which was true, but besides the point. Harry could have sent others." Percy shook his head. "I wish…I wish you could see your father like I see him, Rose. I wish I could just cast a spell and you would know everything. Your parents never had a picture perfect relationship, but no relationships are."

"I just…I feel like I didn't know him. I heard all these stories at his funeral. And…and I had never heard any of them. They were good stories. Some of them were even funny. And…none of them sounded like my dad…"

"Ron was very paranoid…"

"It isn't fair."

Percy looked over at Rose and was just as surprised as she was at the words. She wrapped her arms around herself, shame edging its way into her heart.

"It's not fair," she repeated softly, staring at the carpet, her eyes beginning to sting with unwarranted tears.

"I know," Percy said softly, an odd look coming over his face.


	48. Chapter 48

Disclaimer: I've read it, and I've seen it, but I don't own it. 

3

"Three sickles on Possums," Greg said, fishing in his pocket for the coins.

"That's a terrible bet," Rose said. "I'll match it. The Tornadoes are going to win."

"Even with Marvel starting?" Greg asked, glancing at her sidelong.

"Yep. The Possums can't even hit a barn with a quaffle"

"Yeah? Well, I guess we'll just have to see."

"Guys, don't get soda on my gran's carpet. She'll have a fit and she's far too old to be having fits," Frank said, settling on the worn couch.

"Fine," Greg and Rose said in unison.

Frank rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna get more popcorn," Rose said, standing up. "And the Tornadoes are so gonna win."

Greg waved her off. She entered the kitchen where the aged Mrs. Longbottom was sitting with a cup of tea, her frail hands wrapped around the delicate porcelain.

"Rose," the old woman said, her voice thin. "How are you doing?"

"Good, thanks." Rose grin slightly and poured the rest of the popcorn in the bowl.

"How is your mother?"

"She's been better. She's taking my dad's death pretty hard."

"Mmmm. And Hugo?"

"He's pretty normal. Been reading a lot. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Alright. Well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask and I'll send Neville over with some things for you, ok?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Longbottom."

Rose grabbed the bowl and slipped into the sitting room, settling onto the floor next to Greg. She put the bowl between the two of them and within five minutes, it was gone.

"Damn, you can eat," Frank said, nudging Rose with his toe. Rose smacked his shin.

"I didn't have any breakfast," she said defensively. "My mum needs to go shopping."

"Sure, sure," James said.

"Shove it, guys, the game's coming on," Greg said.

3

Hugo was cooking when Rose came through the door, their mum's flower printed apron tied around his lanky frame.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"Cooking."

"Why?"

"Because mum's busy."

"What's she doing?"

"Reading some stuff."

"Is it for work?"

"She quit her job."

"What?" Rose spun around and stared at Hugo. "What do you mean she quit her job?"

"She's no longer employed at the ministry. She left."

"How can she leave her job? She loved her job!"

"Rose, she probably just needs some time to regroup, ok? I'm sure in a little while, she'll be back to normal. But until then, we need to try and support her, ok?"

"Where did you get this food?"

"I told mum we needed food. She gave me money. I called up Dom and he brought me shopping."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. Aunt Fleur is supposed to be coming by. Have you eaten yet?"

"No…"

"Ok. Good. Because I cooked for all of us."

_Ding dong_.

"Can you get that, Rose?"

Aunt Fleur stood in the doorway, bags in her arms.

"'Ugo, I brought 'oo some of Dominique's old clothes," she said. "'Ello, Rosie, 'ow are 'oo?"

"I'm good. Please come in." She stepped aside.

"Ah! 'Oo are cooking? I zhought 'oo were getting pizza?"

"Oh, no. I decided to cook. Figured it would be better. Besides, I want some chicken." Hugo grinned and stirred something in the pot.

"Tch. Your shorts are far too small 'Ugo. Go change. I will watch your sauce."

"Mmm…ok." Hugo untied the apron and laid it across the chair. He grabbed the three bags of clothes and went to his room.

"Rosie, go and get your mozher. Dinner should be done soon."

Rose shrugged and slipped down the hallway and walked fearlessly into her mum's study. Her mum leaned over the desk, her fingers gingerly turning a page. Rose watched her. There were three stacks of composition notebooks next to her, like the ones Molly and Lucy used to use in grade school. Most of them were black and white. A couple were colored.

"Mum?" Rose asked softly, leaning against the doorjamb. "What are you reading?"

Her mum looked up, her eyes wide and red.

"Oh…just some journals…"

"Whose?"

"Um…your father's." Her mum ran a hand across her jaw line and sighed, her other hand smoothing the full page of the notebook. "He wrote every night since he was eight."

"I…I didn't know he…he kept a log…"

"I knew he wrote during the war. I thought it was something he started then. He wrote throughout Hogwarts, and even before. I had no idea. It's…I don't even know." She shook her head and put a slip of paper in the page before carefully closing the old book. "I almost wish Ginny hadn't found these."

"Why?"

Her mum looked and smiled at her, the wrinkles her face more pronounced than she had ever seen them.

"It just…makes me realize how much more we had to know about each other…Like I never knew he was this close to Percy…or that he used to loathe the idea of having more than one kid…or he had a habit of stealing Fred and George's cookies." She chuckled and sighed wistfully. "And there's stuff I already knew. Like the time Fred and George turned his teddy bear into a spider. Although I didn't know they made a tradition of it…" She smiled warmly and placed the notebook on the top of the larger stack. "There's so much of him here…in these pages...it…" She closed her eyes. "It makes me angry. To know that this man. This wonderful, caring, gentle, honest, loyal man. Died. Because of a c-curse…" Her mum bowed her head and started crying, her shoulders shaking and her breath hitching. Rose watched her, unsure of what to do. "And…and all he was t-trying to d-do…was to protect you, Rose…you and Hugo and me and all your cousins…" Rose felt her own eyes begin to fill with tears. "I'm sorry, Rose. I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry your father is dead. The…the only father you've known…" Her mum started shaking, her pain spilling over to Rose. Searing tears fell down her cheeks. Rose brushed them away, but more came. "I'm so sorry…"

"It's not your fault," Rose said, wrapping her arms around herself and bowing her head. "It's not…"

"I should have…I should have done something…"

"Like what?"

"Like join the team to cure him…like do more…I could have…I could have helped. You don't understand. There was so much -- so much -- I could have done…"

"Nothing…nothing would have worked…"

"You don't know that."

"I know it…I know it enough…"

"There's nothing else to know, Rose." Her mum drew a deep breath and stopped the tears, wiping her wet cheeks on her sleeves. She stood up and grinned, the smile not reaching farther than the tips of her lips. "Did Hugo cook?"

Rose shook her head.

"It smells really good." Her mum left, sliding down the hallway. Rose stood still for a few seconds, staring at the pile of journals on the desk, before following.

3

Rose stood to the side as Hugo ran after Teddy, who had taken his book hostage. Rose grinned, surprised at how fast Hugo was, as he tackled his much bigger antagonist. They rolled around for afew seconds, both of them laughing like little boys.

"How are you doing, Rose?" Victoire asked, sitting next to her on the stone wall overlooking the ocean outside the Cottage.

"Alright," Rose said, deliberately answering vaguely.

"You had a hard year."

"I guess you could say that."

"What would you say?"

"Dom!" Hugo shouted, laughing. "Dom! Help me!"

"I would say…I don't know." Rose looked at her dangling feet. "I'd say it's not over yet."

Victoire sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back on her palms. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Rose. Really, I am." She gazed at her out of the corner of her eye. "I should have made myself more available to you. Wrote you more. Talked to you more. Made more of an…"

"It's not your fault, you know." Rose looked at her, her eyes set in stone. "It was my choice not to write back and my choice not to answer your questions."

Victoire didn't say anything.

"It was my choice to keep distant." Rose's words were final.

"Are you going to stay distant?" Victoire's voice was small, quiet, unsure.

"I…I don't know."

"Rose, please don't trust someone untrustworthy…"

"I know. I've…I think I've learned that lesson."

"You think?" Victoire's eyes deepened color.

"I have."

Victoire looked at her skeptically before nodding warily.

"If you say so, Rose."


	49. Chapter 49

Disclaimer; Don't own it.

"Are you getting a job this summer?" Hugo asked, flipping the eggs.

"Um…I don't know. I think I'm just going to work with James and Fred."

"At the shop?"

"Yes, Hugo, at the shop. Are you going to?"

"Um…I don't think so."

"What? Why not? All you talked about last summer was working at the shop and going to visit Charlie in Romania."

"I know, but…someone has to take care of mum."

Rose watched as he carefully put the scrambled eggs on a plate next to some toast and brought it down the hallway to her study. She blinked after him and shook her head. He couldn't spend his entire summer watching after mum.

_Ding dong_.

Rose stood up and went to the door and opened it.

"Hello, Rose," Aunt Jean said, smiling, her small baby in her arms.

"Oh, hello. Come in. Can I get you anything?"

"No, no thanks. I just came to check on your mum."

"She's down the hall, third door on the left."

"Thanks."

Rose watched her go, wondering what in the world she was doing here.

"Hello, Rose," a bright voice said. She turned and saw Aunt Audrey at the door, holding a bag of something.

"Hey, come in," Rose said.

"Is your mother in?"

"Yeah, she's in her study."

"Do you mind if I go drop these off?"

"Sure, go right ahead."

"'Ello, Rose," Aunt Fleur said, sliding into the house. "'Ow are 'oo doing?"

"Um…good? What are you doing here?"

"Checking in. Just like I always do. Is your mozher in 'er study?"

"Um…yeah…"

Grinning, Aunt Fleur slid down the hallway. Rose scratched the back of her head and returned to the kitchen and her half-drunk cup of coffee.

3

"So, James," Rose said, tossing the quaffle to him in Greg's backyard. "Will I be able to work with you on the Hogsmeade shop this summer?"

"Uncle George might actually need in Diagon Ally, where you'd be working with Molly and Lily and probably Lucy. I think Lou and Roxy are supposed to be on clean up there."

"Has that shop been expanded?"

"Not yet. Greg and Fred are going to be working on that while Vi and I take care of the Hogsmeade shop, right?"

"Yep," Violet said, chucking the quaffle at James's head. She laughed as he caught it and glared.

"I mean, if you don't want to work with the girls, I understand and I can switch you with Greg," James said.

"No you can't," Greg said loudly, pointing his beater's bat at James. "If you so much as _think_ of putting me with a couple of pre-teen girls, I'll bash your brains in." He shook his head. "Not even for Rose."

"So why can't we fly again?" Fred whined, looking at the baseball Greg had given him to hit with the beater bat.

"We're in the middle of a muggle neighborhood," Greg said. "If we flew, it'd be giving us away pretty bad. Besides, whenever I fly, my dad gets pretty nervous."

"But your dad isn't even here," Vi pointed out.

"I don't have enough brooms," he said. "I just have my beater broom, and I doubt Vi or Rose could ride it. It'd probably even give Frank some trouble."

"Hey, just because I don't fly doesn't mean I can't."

"Ahuh, sure," James teased, tossing him the quaffle. Frank just rolled his eyes.

"I feel like we're missing someone," Frank said, scratching his head with the end of the beater bat. "Who are we missing?"

"No one," James said, trying not to laugh.

"No, seriously. Can we invite Dom next time? I can't remember the last time we hung out with him."

"Dom? Who's that?" Greg asked, tossing the baseball in the air and cracking it off the beater bat.

"One of our cousins. He's two years older than us. Used to play Keeper for Gryffindor a few years back," James replied, catching another rocketing quaffle from Vi. "He's a cool guy. You'd like him."

"Hey, maybe you could come to the Weasley cookout at the end of the year," Fred said. "Your dad could come, too. One of our uncles married a muggle and they have a low magic household. And a pool."

"What does that mean? Low magic household?" Greg dropped his bat and joined the quaffle circle. Rose caught the quaffle and passed it to Vi who chucked it at James who threw the quaffle on the gorund and deliberately approached Vi.

"Don't you dare, James Sirius Potter!" She screeched, laughing. He started chasing her.

"Here we go again," Frank muttered.

"So a low magic household…" Rose was interrupted by the pair of them on the ground, James tickling her, both screeching and laughing.

"You can tell me later," Greg said, tossing the quaffle at the back of James's head.

James jumped up and started persuing Greg. The two of them flat-out grappled, Frank sighing and running a hand through his brown hair.

"Don't hurt each other!" Greg's dad, a tall, lanky man with graying blond hair, said from the patio. "I don't have enough time between classes to bring one of you to the hospital!"

"Hospital?" Fred muttered.

Rose shrugged and took a seat, letting the warm sunlight kiss her skin.

3

"These robes are ugly," Lily said, looking up at Rose as if she could do something about it.

"Hey, at least you're not in the orange ones," Rose muttered, brushing her hair off her face.

"What made Uncle George think this was a _good_ idea?" Molly muttered, fastening the top button of her neon green WWW robes.

"I don't think it _was_ Uncle George," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "It was James and Fred. They were talking about it for weeks. They did this just to annoy me."

"They didn't _just_ annoy you, kid," Rose muttered. "I'm pretty sure they aimed it at all of us."

"Ahuh, sure. All I know is that I _can't_ be a Slytherin, have Weasley hair, _and _ wear pink. It'll ruin me!"

"So what do you propose we do about it?" Molly asked, leaning across the counter.

"Die my hair, of course," Lily said proudly.

"And _how_ are you going to do that?" Rose asked, sighing.

"I'll do it on break. Molly, will you help?"

"Your mum's going to have a cow, Lil."

"She won't care." Lily flung her red hair into a tie at the base of her neck. "It isn't like she notices this sort of thing, anyway."

Molly and Rose exchanged glances.

"Whatever you say, Lily," Molly said, starting to put together the front display.

"It's true!" Lily exclaimed. "She won't argue with me about it. She has other things to think about. Like how they're going to get Al walking in time for Hogwarts. My father insists that they'll let him fly around on a broom, but my mum doesn't approve." She started helping Molly, a pang of guilt stabbing Rose in the back of her stomach. "And if she _does_ say anything, then I'll just say that it was permanent and can't be removed for three months or my hair will fall out. I'm sure she'd prefer me to have my father's hair than no hair at all. And by that time, I'll be back at Hogwarts and she won't be able to say a thing about it." Lily flashed a grin over her shoulder Rose. "See? It'll all work out."

"And here I just thought you were a little daddy's girl," Molly said. "Come to find out you just know how to manipulate everyone."

"Yup. Just like how I'll tell Uncle Percy what you and Lorcan were doing in the third floor broomcloset if you ever cross me." Lily smiled a sickly sweet smile at Molly, who paled dramatically.

"You _saw_ that? But we put wards…you're just pulling my leg."

Lily shrugged. "Am I?"

"You are such a Slytherin, Potter," Molly muttered, struggling to breathe.

**AN:** Sorry it took so long to get back to posting. It'll probably still be really irregular (but hopefully not as irregular).


	50. Chapter 50

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

The house was silent. Rose shifted in the chair, trying to get comfortable in the deadly silence. Not even the clock above the mantle dared to audibly pass the time. She balanced a book on her knee, staring at the words and trying to focus. She glanced at the clock. Seven fifteen. Her father should be home…would be home…by now. She tried to read again. She thought she heard the pop of apparation. She looked up, expecting the door to open.

It didn't.

When she was younger, she would stare at the clock, waiting and waiting and waiting for seven o'clock, when her father would come home. Sometimes, she would start waiting at six. Sometimes at five thirty. If he wasn't travelling, he was always home by seven. Her hands tightened around her book. Always.

3

"Mum, I'm going to Greg's after dinner to watch the game," Rose said.

"Are Fred and James going, too?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Hugo, why don't you tag along. You were on the team with Greg, right?"

"I don't want to."

"Hugo, you should get out. Do something."

"I don't want to, mum."

She sighed and rubbed her face. "Alright. I'm not arguing with you. I'm going to be working, though."

"That's fine. I was just going to take care of some things around the house."

"Like what?" Rose asked, grabbing some more potatoes.

"Well…the back door has some loose hinges, the sink in the bathroom is leaking, and I think the gutters need to be cleaned."

"When your father comes home, I'll make sure it gets done," their mum said. "Go out and do something…"

Hugo and Rose looked at their mother, nervous looks on their faces. Their mum stopped eating, putting her fork and knife down, closing her eyes.

"Excuse me," she whispered, standing up and going into her study.

They heard the door slam shut and the birds chirping outside.

"You know, I can get James and Fred to do that for you," Rose said. "And you can come to the game."

"Wait…you're going to the game?"

"Well, Greg doesn't live too far from the Wasp stadium and tickets are dirt cheap. The franchise hasn't improved at all. So, we were planning on going to the game. If you want to come. I think I have enough for two tickets."

"Um…no, that's ok. I don't want to tag along."

"You won't be tagging along, Hugo."

"I really should clean the drains before it starts raining."

"Hugo…you really do need to get out."

He shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal."

"If you say so. I need to get going. Are you _sure_ you don't want to come?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine."

"Do something fun, will you?" Rose stood up.

Hugo flashed her a quick grin, but it didn't promise anything.

"I'll see you later," she said, ruffling his short hair.

3

The sun beamed down on them as they sat in rather bad seats, Harpies fans all around them.

"I love it when the Harpies play here," Greg said, stretching his arms. "It's always like going to a Harpies game, although the tickets boost up a bit in price. Any other game and we could actually have decent seats other than these, which are basically grounded."

"Nah, they aren't that bad," Vi said, leaning against James. "I mean, sure, they could be a shitload better, but they could much, much, much worse."

"Since when are you the optimist," James muttered, smirking at her. She stuck out her tongue and smiled.

"They make me sick," Fred muttered.

"You can't just be happy for him?" Rose asked, munching on some popcorn.

"No. I'll be happy for him when he marries. Until then, meh. She's a liability on his happiness."

"So pessimistic, Fred," Greg teased, ruffling his hair. Fred batted him away.

"You would be, too, if a girl you loved broke your heart!" Fred crossed his arms indignantly.

Greg laughed, his deep voice filling the immediate area.

"I want a girlfriend," Frank said, leaning back in his seat. "I mean, yeah, it's cool to hang out with you guys…"

"But we can't give you a wet one," Greg teased, grinning at him.

"Yeah." Frank sighed and glanced at Rose.

"Don't even think about it," Rose said.

"Oh, come on, Rose!" Frank whined. "I've never even kissed a girl! You can't expect me to keep on going like this…"

"Go find some random broad elsewhere, kid, because I am not going to give you a pity peck."

"I'm not asking for a pity peck, I'm asking for a…"

"I'm not giving you one of those, either, Frank." Rose crossed her arms and put her feet up on the empty seat in front of her. "Not gonna happen."

"Rose," James said, looking down the line of friends. "I dare you to kiss one of us."

"First of all, that's disgusting because half of you are my cousins, one of you might as well be my cousin, and the fourth…" She glanced at Greg.

"What about the fourth?" Fred asked, grinning.

Rose felt her cheeks flush.

"I'm not going to play your childish games," she said stiffly, her nose in the air.

"And yet you're willing to blow up a toilet?" Fred scoffed. "Please. You're as much of an adult as the rest of us."

"And you still have two - yep, two - years of school left," James said, grinning broadly. "There's nothing adult about that, now, is there."

"I'm not doing it," Rose maintained, watching the Wasp keeper let yet another quaffle through.

"Yes you are," James said.

"And why is that?"

"Because if you do, then I'll get you to work with me in Hogsmeade rather than Diagon Alley. I know you can't stand Lily and Molly for more than five seconds just like the rest of us."

"I think I can handle Lily and Molly better than you, James," Rose said. "It's not enough to make me furious, you know. I can do it right and well, thank you very much."

"All right, I you insist," James said. "I guess I'm just going to have to send Dom…"

"I thought Dom was in France for the summer," Rose said, sitting forward in her chair.

"Nope. He decided it wasn't for him after a week and came back, but Uncle Bill won't let him stay at the Cottage unless he's paying rent, so he's working at the shop and sending the money to his parents for the bill." James shrugged. "He was going to work at Hogsmeade, but I think there needs to be some testosterone in Diagon Ally." James smirked.

Rose gritted her teeth. Of all her cousins, Dom was her least favorite to work with. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't care what anyone said or thought or did. Maybe it was that he was flat out lazy. Maybe it was that he never treated her with any respect. She could never really pinpoint it. The idea of _working_ with him drove her to turn to her left, where Greg was still watching the game, and kiss his cheek. She snapped her head forward, her jaw set, and tried to push the blush from her cheek and to calm her heartbeat.

"That was it?" Fred asked, disappointed. "I could have done…" Greg threw him a backhand in his gut.

"Not funny," Greg muttered, his voice cracking slightly.

James started laughing, staring at the red in Greg's cheeks and Rose's matching flush.


	51. Chapter 51

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"So I told Aeolus that he was an ass and had to get over her because she wasn't that great of a keeper, anyway. Then he looked at me, gave me one of his 'I can't believe you just said that' looks and rolled his eyes."

"Then what did you do?" Molly wiped the counter down and glanced at Lily.

"I told him I was going to be the best keeper Slytherin's ever had."

"And what did he say?"

"He looked at me like I had four heads and asked what kind of broom I had."

"And…?"

"I told him it didn't matter. That I could stop whatever he threw at me from the ground _without_ a broom."

Molly shook her head and organized the display of ton tongue toffees on the counter. Rose finished the window display and leaned against the wall.

"How long do we have to be here for?" Lily asked, leaning forward against the counter, her fingers tracing the wood grain.

"Awhile," Molly replied.

"So, what _have_ you been up to, Molly? You've been awfully quiet about your Hogwarts year." Lily grinned at her older cousin.

"Eh…nothing unusual."

"You know, I was expecting some more obvious exploits from you."

"Yeah?"

"From what James and Fred have been gloating about, it seems like you and your friends kept it quiet."

"Yeah, that's it. We kept it quiet," Molly said, walking across the store.

"Well, if you haven't, then what have you been doing?"

"I'll be willing to bet she found the party scene," Rose said. "Although, you're pretty young for that. Usually it's only sixth and seventh years."

"Well…it's kind of hard not to when the ROR is right there and all you're doing is looking for a good time."

"The roar? What's that?" Lily asked, excitement in her voice.

"Hogwarts code of ethics - can't tell underclassmen. You have to find it out for yourself," Rose said.

"Pfft I'll just ask Aeolus."

"Do you _like_ that kid or something?

"Eww! No! Do I _look_ like one of his whores? He's just one of the more influential members of the quidditch team. Of course I'm going to suck up to him - I want to be keeper. I'm not just going to ignore him. That's how you get benched. I'm so much better than the _bench_."

"Ahuh, sure. And if you tell my dad about the ROR, I'm going to tell your dad that you kissed Aeolus to get on the quidditch team."

"I didn't kiss him!"

"And who is he going to believe? His Slytherin daughter or his Gryffindor neice?"

"That's low, Molly," Rose muttered. "You should use something legitimate. Like the fact that she had four detentions and served only one."

Lily blanched.

"How…how did you know that?" Lily stared at Rose.

"I have…I have connections," Rose said, biting back a grimace when she remembered the certain headboy that had been her connection.

"Ugh. I hate being related to_ everyone_ at Hogwarts," Lily groaned.

3

"Hey Hugo," Rose said, throwing her disgustingly bright shop robes on the couch.

"Hey," he said, flipping through a magazine.

"Have you moved all day?"

He shrugged. "Not really."

"So you've been sitting there all day in shorts that are too short reading a magazine?"

"I finished my book. The doors aren't squeaky anymore."

"Ok, next time I go out, I'm bringing you," she said.

"No. I'm fine at home."

"First of all, it isn't good for a kid to stay alone all day."

"I'm fine, Rose. It isn't that big of a deal."

"Yes, it is. The boys and I are going to Finnigan's house to play quidditch. You're coming and playing keeper, got it?"

"But…"

"Greg's captain of the quidditch team next year. Impress him now and he can help you with your form."

"I don't want to…"

"Lily and Molly and Dom and Uncle Harry and Lou are all going to be there."

"Is it a cook-out?"

"No. It's just a gathering. I think Ally might be there, too."

"Ahuh. Just a gathering. Are we supposed to bring…"

"Just our brooms, Hugo. Why are you so…"

"Oh, hello, Rose. I didn't expect you back so soon," their mum said, coming down the hallway. She adjusted the trap of her tank top sliding off one shoulder and slipped into the kitchen.

"How much weight has she lost?" Rose whispered, glancing at Hugo. He shrugged wryly. Rose inhaled deeply and tried to push the worry from the back of her mind. In a little while, she'll be back to normal, Rose told herself.

"Grandma Granger is coming over later to take us out to dinner," their mum said clearly through the wall. "Be ready by six."

3

"I'll be right back," Rose's mum said, standing up and slipping down the corridor to the bathroom.

"She doesn't look good," her grandmother said stiffly and took a sip of her wine.

"No. She doesn't," Hugo said softly, stirring his soup with his spoon.

"Don't play with your food, Hugo."

"Sorry."

"I'm selling my house," she said matter of factly.

Rose and Hugo both looked at her, wondering where she was going with this.

"I was going to rent an apartment not far from Jean. The fact of the matter is, however, that your mother is in more need of support than she is."

"And?" Rose pushed.

"_And_, young lady, I was wondering if you two would be alright with me being more of a presence in your lives and in your mum's life."

"How much more of a presence?" Rose asked.

"That depends. It could be as drastic as me moving into the guest room or as less severe as me moving into an apartment in that complex a few blocks away. Either way, it would probably be best for it to be a daily presence."

"Why?"

"Why? Because my daughter needs me, that's why. I would hope she would do the same for you, if it were the case."

"We can take care of her fine enough," Hugo said, anger edging into his voice.

"You are children. You can't."

"We can," Hugo insisted, looking up at her.

"Hugo, I know you don't understand…"

"I understand well enough!" His face flared with the Weasely blush of fury. "You think we're weak so you have to come in here and fix everything! Well, not everything can be fixed. You want to make up for these years when we didn't even know you existed. Those years are gone. You can never get them back! You don't have a _right_ to take care of her!"

"This isn't about my _rights_. This is about my duty."

"Well I'm relieving you from your duty, then!"

"I'm afraid you can't undo fate, my boy."

"I'm not _your_ boy!" Hugo stood up, shaking. "And she's not _your_ daughter!" People turned in their chairs and glanced scornfully at the furious boy. "Where were you when I was born? Where were you when Rose went to Hogwarts? Where were you when my parents were _married_? You weren't there! You weren't her mother!"

The old woman bowed her graying head, the light reflecting off silver strands, and inhaled shakily. She looked back up at Hugo.

"Sit down," she said softly.

"No."

"Hugo," Rose said, putting a hand against the back of his. He pulled away and flopped in the chair. "I think it's a good idea."

"How can you say that!" Hugo looked like he was going to punch her.

"There are other things you should be doing other than looking after mum. Like playing quidditch and going to games and…I don't know what else you do…but you shouldn't be constantly cooking and cleaning and fixing things. Besides, you've grown a foot…"

"No I haven't."

"Well, you've certainly grown a lot, and mum's in no state to make sure your clothes fit. And you're always the one who goes shopping with Dom and someone has to look after _you_, Hugo. You aren't of age, yet."

"So what? That doesn't mean I'm not responsible."

"I'm not saying it does. I'm saying there are other things you can worry about other than mum. Like your marks or the latest book. And what are you going to do when you go back to Hogwarts and there isn't anyone to look after her? What then?"

Hugo crossed his arms and glared at rose, his jaw set.

"Fine," he snapped. "You can move in."


	52. Chapter 52

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"Hugo! Hurry up and get your broom! We were supposed to be at Mattie Finn's an hour ago!"

"I can't find it!"

"What do you mean you can't _find _it!" She stormed into his room. "It's a broom, Hugo!"

"I know, I know," he said, rubbing his short hair.

Rose looked around once, ducked under the bed, and pulled out his Firebolt.

"Oh, that's where I put it," he muttered, taking it and heading towards the fireplace.

3

"Rose!" Mattie Finnegan cried, running up to the younger student and wrapping her arms tightly around her. "I haven't seen you in _forever_!"

"It isn't my fault you're, like, _ten_ years older than me."

"Four, thank you very much." Mattie started laughing. "Hugo, you're huge!" She wrapped her arms around him and he blushed red.

"Yeah, nice to see you, too, Mattie."

"The others here, yet?" Rose asked.

"Ah…no. Actually. I was expecting them to be on time, but it is James and Fred, you know."

"So, Mad Fin," Rose teased, reverting to an old nickname. "How's the ministry treating you?"

"I don't even want to talk about it," she said, scratching her short dark hair. "It'd be one thing if they respected me, and another if they listened. But they do neither. So we're going to end up in a war with the centaurs before too long. Your mum screwed the department with her leave." She sighed. "It's been hard to fill her shoes. I can't, honestly. Maybe - _maybe _- if Cormack was with me, it'd be fine. But he's still in Hogwarts."

"Graduating this year, right?" Rose glanced up, her question about the Hufflepuff perfectly valid.

"Yeah. He's at an internship with the ministry right now. It'll be awhile before he actually…wow…James brought a very, very, _very_ attractive boy with him…" She tilted her head and stared as the five - James, Frank, Fred, Greg, and Vi - made their way towards the back patio of the house.

"OH, that's Greg," Rose said. "Seventh year Ravenclaw."

"Phew. He can't be single."

"I…I think he might be."

"You've got to be kidding me. _That_ sex beast is single?"

"He's kind of reserved. I wouldn't say that to him."

"Whatever, Rose. You coaching, as usual?" Mattie pushed her playfully.

"I'm _not_ falling off a broom. And Hugo's playing Keeper."

"Alright, I guess I'm quaffling, then." Grinning, Mattie grabbed her broom from against the house and hopped on, hovering and waiting for the others.

"I'm seeker!" Lily shouted, running by Rose and trying to simultaneously take off.

"Keeper!" Molly screamed, taking off.

"Chaser!" Ally ran underneath Frank and started yelling. "Mum told you to wear your helmet! Put on your helmet"

"Shut up, Ally!"

"Frank!"

Uncle Harry chuckled and leaned on the wall next to Rose.

"Energetic, huh?" he said.

"Yeah."

"So how're you doing?"

"Fine."

"Your mother?"

"OK, I guess."

"Your grandmother."

Rose shrugged. "Hugo doesn't like it."

"Doesn't surprise me. He's a lot like Ron in that way. No one else can take care of Hermione but him." Uncle Harry sighed and squinted into the sky. "I'm surprised he actually came, to be honest."

"He tried to act like he lost his broom. It was under his bed."

"Hard time getting him out?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to…I'm going to fix this, Rose."

"You can't fix it, Uncle Harry. You can't fix life."

He grinned wryly and started laughing bitterly. Rose didn't know what was so funny.

"Hugo! Keep your back straight!" She hollered.

"Knees in, James!" Uncle Harry barked.

"Mattie, protect the quaffle!"

"Molly, use your legs!"

"Lily, stop staring at Greg! Greg, don't get distracted!"

"Lily's looking at Greg?" Uncle Harry squinted. Rose laughed.

"Yeah. Evidently he's a looker. Even Mattie thinks so."

"Well, Mattie isn't exactly the most reserved girl," Uncle Harry said. "There's no question about that."

"She's only had one boyfriend."

"One steady boyfriend. Seamus tells me all about her exploits in the ministry. If she didn't…um…"

"Become friendly?"

"Sure…with every unmarried man under the age of thirty, then she might be taken seriously. She has fantastic ideas. Your mum is her mentor, you know."

"I didn't know that."

"Yeah. Both of them were very adamant about keeping their work and private life separate." Harry shifted. "They're hoping Hermione will come back, you know. They're banking on it."

"I don't think she will."

"No?"

"She can't even handle being home, never mind working."

"True. It'll take some time. But I can't imagine her being away for much longer."

"Do you know what she's doing?" Rose looked at her uncle, curiosity written on her face.

"What do you mean?" He crossed his arms and looked down at her.

"Well, she stays all day in her room…reading dad's old journals. I was just…wondering if you know what for."

"I knew Ginny shouldn't have given her those." Harry sighed and ran his hand through his messy hair. "She's just grieving, Rose."

"Still?"

"It's going to…it's going to take a long time. They've been inseparable since they were eleven. You have to understand."

"So they were, like, always joined at the hip?"

"Well…not at the hip, but definitely in proximity. Well…maybe not even proximity most of the time…but they were definitely at their best when in close proximity." Uncle Harry scratched his head. "They fought a lot. Even more than when they were older. About stupid stuff. Ron tended to be a bit more…immature…and Hermione was always level headed."

"What was he like as a kid?"

"Ron? Um…he reminded me a lot of…Charlie…actually. He was goofier when he was younger, probably under the influence of George, but had some - and I do mean some - of Percy's maturity. He would deny it until the day he died, though, and say it was _Bill_'_s_ maturity, and definitely _not_ Percy's." Uncle Harry chuckled. "Uncle Bill's maturity is go off and do what you want until someone needs you. Percy's maturity is do what you think is right. Your father definitely had Percy's sort of maturity."

"So he was…always so self-righteous."

Uncle Harry laughed. "Yes. He was. Half the reason why the two of them fought all the time. Both of them thought they were in the right. Never ends well. If my gut is right - and it usually is - Hugo will find someone similar. And you, too, if you're not careful." Harry looked back to the sky.

"Greg! Choke up on the bat!" Rose shouted.

"Shut up! I know what I'm doing!" he shouted down, swinging at the rock Harry had enchanted.

"Choke up!" She shouted back.

"NO!"

Uncle Harry started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Rose asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the house.

"I think Lily's caught the snitch," he said, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes. He pulled out his wand and summoned the single rock used as a bludger and tossed it in his pocket. Greg landed and walked right up to Rose.

"What do you mean 'choke up'?" He waved the bat in front of him. "If I choke up, then I lose power!"

"If you choke up, you also get more control, which is what you needed! You're playing with a _rock_ for a bludger! You can't hit the rock with the wooden part of the bat or it'll splinter. It _has_ to be the metal. You were chipping away with the wood. You needed more control."

"Bull."

"Ha! Your bat's gonna break before your first game of the season. What then? You're just going to get a new bat and break it in? Look at it. It's already splintering at the top."

"I…oh, shit."

"Told you."

"You need to oil the wood more on the next one and keep it in a dry climate. Your shed outback isn't going to do it." Rose took the bat from him and weighted it. "This one sucks, anyway. You've had this since second year?"

"Yeah."

"It's too light for you. Not regulation at all. Not reinforced, either. You need a different wood, too. This is maple, right?"

"Um…yeah?"

"You should get ash. Won't shatter like this." She stuck her finger in the crack. "I take it Flitwick ordered this for you?"

"Yeah."

"Makes enough sense. Good beginning bat."

"Yeah. I needed a new one, anyway."

"Why?" She looked at him, scrunching her eyes.

"Um…I was invited to some recruitment camps."

"Who?"She dropped the bat.

"Torndaoes, Magpies, Cannons, Wasps, Puddlemere United, Falcons, Arrows, and the Bats."

"That's…that's eight teams!"

"Yeah. For the next two months I'm in one camp a week."

"Do you realize how much quidditch that is?"

"Three days a week for two months? Yeah. I know." Greg took the bat gingerly. "I need one magically reinforced and engraved with my name or I'll be scorned. It's going to cost a shitload."

"Do you have a shitload?"

"Yeah. I haven't bought anything in a while." He sighed. "I was just hoping I could get this one adjusted. Bats are expensive."

"Are you going to need a new broom, too?"

His face paled and he looked at his broom leaning against the house, the handle smudged, bristles askew, the model about a decade out of date.

"For the love of Merlin…" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going to have to ask my father for an early birthday present. I'll ask him to get the bat. That'll be less expenseive than a…"

"You don't need a top of the line broom for beating. Just a sturdy one. The power's in the broom. If you can part with your Comet and go for an older Firebolt - maybe so far back as the second, which you should be able to pick up for cheap - you should be fine. You're enough of a wizard, too, that you can buy a family broom and charm it up."

"That's true." He inhaled deeply. "I'm going to need your help, you know."

"I can't do magic."

"You can if you use Fred's wand." He grinned. "Besides, my dad doesn't know you're not of age. I'll get the broom - the _third_ Firebolt because I can't look like a complete idiot - and you and Fred can come over my place."

"Who do you have to go to first?"

"Um…Arrows. Why?"

"Oh, never mind, then. Puddlemere is notorious for giving out free swag to their recruits."

"Ah. Right. They're last. Do you think they'll give me a broom?"

"If they like you."

"No pressure, though." He grinned broadly.

"Rose, food," Mattie said, draping an arm around her shoulder. "You're a good beater, kid. I hope to see you in the world cup."

Greg laughed. "Thanks."

"Rose, here, is hopeless. No balance. Can't even sit in a canoe without flipping it over."

"That was _once_, Mattie."

"Yeah, sure. We need to hang out more, kid. I forgot how funny you were." Mattie rubbed Rose's head before slipping into the house.

"She's quite a character," Greg said, following after Rose.


	53. Chapter 53

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"I totally stuffed Mattie and felt _so_ good. I can't wait to play against Cormack. I'm gonna feed the quaffle right back in his face," Hugo said, walking up to the door. He opened it and paused in the doorway.

"Hugo, go in." Rose nudged by him and paused next to him.

"Why are there all of dad's clothes out here?" Hugo asked softly, tentatively walking forward.

"Hello, glad you're home," Grandma Granger said, bustling into the kitchen. She dumped a pile of clothes on the couch.

"What're you doing?" Rose asked. She looked around and saw things she remembered - sweatshirts, tee-shirts, button-downs, robes, jackets, pants, events.

"Cleaning out closets with your mother."

"By getting rid of all of dad's stuff?" Rose looked at her grandmum.

"Look, Rose, I know this is difficult…"

"No. No!" Rose started picking up piles of clothes and putting them under her arm. "You can't do this!"

"Rose…"

"No! These aren't yours. You can't move them! Don't _touch_ me!" She pulled way and walked down the hallway and into her parents room. Her mum sat on the bed, staring at a pair of boxers. She looked up and smiled, her eyes red and puffy.

"Those have to go to Dom…"

"Why?" Rose's mum startled at the sharp sound of her voice. "They aren't his."

"Rose…" Her mum stood up, carefully folding the Cannons boxers. She put them on the bed and walked forward. "I know this is difficult…"

"No. It's not. It's not Dom's stuff. It's dad's. It belongs here."

"Rose, please…"

"Please what?"

"This has to be done."

"No. No it doesn't."

"This is difficult enough without you condemning me…"

"I should have listened to Hugo!" Rose dropped the clothes and stormed down the hall. She went to slam her door behind her, but her mum caught the door. She groaned and flopped down on the bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

"What do you mean you should have listened to Hugo?" Her mum's tone was soft yet firm like butter that'd been left out.

"It's all her fault! If she hadn't come, then this wouldn't be happening!"

"Who are you…?"

"What do you mean who am I talking about? You _know_ who I'm talking about! Who can I be talking about? Damn it! I would think you'd have more common sense than that!"

"Rose...this has nothing to do with your grandmother."

"Oh! Grandmother, now, is it? She's of some connection to _me_? She's _your _mother, I hate to break it to you. She has nothing to do with me!"

"She is my mother, I am your mother, therefore you are her granddaughter."

"You're not my mother!"

Silence. Rose felt all the anger flood out of her and all the regret pour in. Her anger quickly resolidified and her stubbornness took over, her jaw tightening and her mouth setting.

"Ok," her mum said, her voice trembling. "Ok." She stood up and left, quietly closing the door behind her. The door shut with a click.

Rose rolled over, wrapping her arms around her pillow, and cried.

3

"Molly, you're using too much mascara," Lily said, chomping on gum.

"No I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. You look like a hooker."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"Lily, I think I know more about make-up than you do. I am the make-up girl in Gryffindor _and_ I do Lorcan and Lysander's make-up when the time calls for it. So don't think for a second you know more than I do."

"Maybe you should use a different color."

"Lily, I think you should use black instead of that puce you use."

"House colors." Lily shrugged.

"It's absolutely disgusting. And it does not work with your hair."

"My hair's black! There's nothing wrong with it."

"I'm not saying there's anything _wrong_ with it, but it's better to go with a black or, at the very least, a very very very dark brown."

"I don't believe it."

"Shut up, both of you," Rose snapped, coming down the stairs with her hands full of product. "I don't give a shit what you use on your face."

"Yeah, because you don't use any."

"Lily, what did I say?" Rose dropped the boxes. "Now unload them onto the floor."

"Why do I have to do it? Why can't Molly."

"Lily!" Rose closed her eyes and clenched her fists, forcing herself to breathe. "Molly is sweeping and I am making sure the books are even."

"Why can't I sweep?"

"Figure it out. I don't care. Just make sure they both get done, damn it."

"Damn, woman, what's shoved up your ass?" Molly asked, grabbing the broom.

"Molly, just sweep."

"How come you don't yell at her?" Lily demanded, her hands full of colorful packages.

"Lily!"

"Ugh." Lily rolled her eyes and got back to work.

3

"This…this is the broom?" Rose asked, cocking her head and squatting down. "It could use some work." She reached down and touched the worn handle.

"Yeah…Ginny got it for me for a really really _really_ good price," Greg said, rubbing his short hair. "I really hate this hair cut."

Rose glanced up at him. "It looks good."

"I like it longer, though."

"Then why is it so short?"

"I hate sweating in a helmet with long hair. I'm going to be playing quidditch non-stop for…ugh…all summer? Man, I have no time to draft the centaur reformation bill I promised Mattie…"

"You're doing stuff for Mattie?" An uncomfortable feeling tugged at the back of Rose's stomach.

"Well…yeah…I mean, she's totally swamped with extra work and I said I'd look into it for her."

"You do know she's a bit of a slut, right?"

"What? Are you kidding me? That girl was more covered up than you were."

"Because her father was inside."

"That sounds really unfair of you, Rose."

"Look, I'm just giving you warning. You can do what you want. She will try to get in your pants if you meet with her regularly. And she thinks you're rather desirable. But don't tell her I told you." Rose sat down on the floor of Greg's living room and pulled out a broomstick care kit out of her bag. Out came the wax and she applied it liberally to the handle. "Are Fred and James coming?"

"They should be here in about an hour. They had to clean up the shop."

Rose nodded and sighed.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, starting to fiddle with the twigs at the end of the broom.

"Um…" She glanced up at Greg, who was looking at her. She flushed and turned back to the broom. Faintly, she wondered why she went red whenever she realized he was looking _at_ her. Faintly, she wondered why she thought he was looking at her instead of in her general direction more often than she used to.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."

"No…that's not it… I just…last night I had an argument with my mother."

"That can't be that unusual," Greg said. "I mean, I hear about Lily and Ginny's arguments all the time. They're legendary."

"Yeah…but…me and my mum haven't really fought like…that…" Rose wiped her hands covered in wax on her jeans, not even caring if they stained.

"What do you mean?"

"I've never…I've never really tried to hurt her before…" Rose leaned back against his couch.

"Didn't go over well, I take it."

"She just, like, took it. And walked away. I wasn't…I thought she'd yell back or ground me or whack me with a hex or _something._"

"What'd you say to her?"

"I told her she wasn't my mother."

She heard Greg move. Tentatively, she looked at him. He was staring.

"My…my grandmother moved in with us. I thought…I thought she would just, like cook and clean and whatever. But when I got home, they…_she_…was throwing out all of my dad's stuff. All his clothes, she was going through his cabinets and his shelves and everything. She shouldn't be _doing_ that! It's…it's all we have left of him, you know? And she just…she convinced my mum to get rid of it without a second thought…" Rose drew her knees to her chest and rested her cheek on her knees. "They're getting rid of him, Greg. And they don't care. They. Don't. Care. It's going…it's going to be like he was never there. Like he never existed." She felt the tears prick the corners of her eyes, her nose begin to become congested. "I don't want that. I don't. I'd give anything…anything to have him back…" She started crying, the tears ruthless and unrelenting.

"What else happened?" Greg whispered, moving slowly to sit next to her with his back to the couch and legs crisscrossed in front of him.

"I…I tried to put his clothes back…where they belong…" She wiped her nose on her sleeve. "My mum…my mum said the clothes were going to Dom. Dom! I hate Dom. I hate him. He's…ugh. I just…what has he done to deserve that? Nothing. He's lazy and stupid and…and…they don't belong with him.

"And you were angry at your mum for it."

"It's my grandmum's fault…she's the one that convinced my mum to…I never should have agreed…I should have…I should have protected him…I didn't even know she existed before my grandpa died. I liked him. I knew him for…what? A few days? And then he fucking died. And…and I was there when Grandpa Weasley died…and then…then Chris is in goddamn Azkaban…" She offered a wry laugh. "Every man important to me goes away." She wiped her tears, but they didn't stop. "If you're not careful, you're going to be next."

Greg didn't laugh like she hoped he would.

"Rose…um…it's…it's difficult when you have to let someone go." He shifted so his body faced her. "And…and I know when…my mum died…one of the hardest parts was getting rid of her things. I felt like…I was betraying her or something. I don't even know. Whenever I look at something of hers…I can see her again, if only for a second, and I can hear her voice and smell her perfume and feel her arms around me. I felt like…I felt like if I got rid of that, then those…those feelings, those memories…all of it…would go, too." Rose looked away, feeling the vulnerability radiating off of him. "But it doesn't. Rose, please…look at me…I have to…I have to say this." He reached out and touched the back of her hand. "No matter what you get rid of or what your mum decides to get rid of…it doesn't matter…those things…they aren't going to be there all the time. Someday you're going to move out and your mum might sell the house and you'll be at Hogwarts…and he's still going to be there. You'll see something and it'll remind you of him…or you'll just think of him…and…and…I don't know." He rubbed his hair.

"I just don't want to forget." She bit her lip, feeling foolish.

"You won't. You can't."

"Really?"

Greg nodded.

"I feel like he's slipping away…"

"He already has."

Rose sniffled.

"Everything will be all right."

"I can't…I can't imagine my life without him…"

"You don't have to imagine it, Rose. It's happening."

"A-and I can't believe it."

"Me neither." Greg diverted his gaze and stared at the floor. "You know, my mum didn't even know I'm a wizard."

"Hey! Greg! I brought…" James stopped in the doorway to the living room. "Um…is this…a bad time?"

"Just give me a few minutes," Greg muttered and cleared his throat.

"Ooook." James ducked out and manhandled Fred back into the kitchen.

Greg laughed and rubbed his eyes.

"I don't know _why_ you always make me emotional, Rose, but I'm not sure I like it."

"I could say the same about you," Rose said. "Do you have any tissues?"


	54. Chapter 54

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"So this is it," James said, crossing his arms and looking at the broom.

"Four hours of primping and polishing and it actually _looks_ like a quidditch broom," Fred said.

"Wand," Rose said, holding out her hand to Fred. "Greg, you're positive I won't get in trouble for this?"

"Yep. They can't track witches. They only track wands."

"Alright, alright."

"I've done a scan," Greg said. "It has a worn breaking charm, vibration control, weak staying power, a low hover, lower speeds than an average Firebolt, and the softening charm wore off a while ago."

"We might have been better off with a house broom," James said.

"No. The flight charms are still top of the line and the steering is still the best. I think it was recently re-charmed in both those areas," Rose said, running a hand over the broom handle.

"I think Ginny said the former owner was working on renovating it, but doesn't have the time," Greg said.

"Who was the former owner?"

"I don't really know."

"So, where do we start?" Fred asked, crouching low.

"We need to get the fundamentals down first - hover, brake, increase the speed and mobility, and then comfort," Rose said. "Fred, wand?"

"Are you sure you can do this?" James asked, grabbing Fred's wand from his hand.

"Yes, I'm sure I can do it," Rose said. "See the twig over there?" She motioned to the stick hovering in the corner. "I did that with Greg's wand. It'll be a lot better with Fred's. Now back up, will you? I need some space."

3

There was a sweatshirt on her bed. Rose stood in the doorway and stared at the neatly folded, bright orange Cannons sweatshirt. Her heart skipped a beat. There was a stain on it from when her father dropped his hotdog and got catsup on it and refused to let mum wash it because the Cannons won that day. She closed her door behind her and sat on her bed, her fingers lightly brushing across the fabric. She pulled it onto her lap.

There was a book underneath. A well worn copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_. It had her dad's fifteen year old scrawl on the inside cover. "If you're reading this and I didn't let you borrow this book, you'd better put it down or I'll track you down and kill you myself (Ginny, I'm talking to you.)." She grinned and ever so gently put the worn book, the cover water stained, the pages falling out, and the binding shot, on her desk. She laid down on her bed, the sweatshirt tightly pressed to her chest, and inhaled her dad's scent. She closed her eyes, tears beginning to stream down her cheek, and eventually fell asleep.

3

"Hey, Rose, where's your mum?" Mattie Finnigan asked coming out of the closet.

"What were you doing in there?" Rose asked, watching her go through her bag and pull out a blue folder.

"Missed the apparition point. I'm so much worse than Cormack it isn't even funny. So where is she?"

"Down the hall to the left."

"Thanks."

"What are you doing?"

"Asking your mum for her opinion on some reform propositions."

"I think she might be preoccupied."

"I owl'ed her yesterday, there's no problem." Mattie waved off Rose and entered the study.

"Ugh, what's she doing here?" Hugo asked, coming down the hallway without his shirt on.

"Why are you half naked?"

"I'm trying to find a shirt I can wear to the Cottage. Dom's supposed to be giving me some Keeper lessons."

"You do realize he's worse at keeping than mum, right?"

"I need to practice. It really doesn't matter how bad he is. So do you know where the laundry is?"

"I dunno. Maybe _she_ did something with it."

"Ugh."

Hugo rolled his eyes and slid into the alcove where the laundry machine was. He fumbled around for a few minutes and came out with a tee-shirt.

"I'm going," he said, throwing it over his head.

"When'll you be back?"

"As late as possible."

"Alright, have fun."

"Will do." He threw some floo powder on the fire.

Rose rubbed her face and glanced at the clock. She had to get to work.

3

"No. Absolutely not," Lily said. "There is no way the Harpies are going to lose."

"Shut up, you," Molly sneered. "Puddlemere is totally going to crush them."

"What about the Tornadoes?" Rose suggested. Both of her cousins looked at her like she had committed a sin.

"No," they both said.

"Harpies."

"Puddlemere."

"Briggid can't even catch a quaffle, never mind make saves."

"At least he doesn't fall off his broom every game."

"That's just because Wood actually tries to make the save."

"Why are you so insistent that Wood is some Keeper Goddess?"

"Because she is!" Lily nearly threw herself over the counter.

"No. She isn't. She's just like any other broad."

"Who happens to lead the league in saves," Rose said.

"That means nothing."

"When you're a keeper, Molly, that's all that matters."

"Ugh. You guys are both ridiculous. Why can't you see her for the whore she is?"

Lily smirked all of a sudden, and stood up straight.

"Lorcan has the hots for her, doesn't he?"

Molly's eyes widened and she shook her head. "No. Why would you…?"

"Ha!" Lily started howling, pounding the table with her fist. "He does! He so does! I bet he has a team photo, doesn't he? Probably the one when they were on their training trip in the south of France?"

Molly turned away from Lily and Rose and started sweeping. Lily kept laughing.

"One day Aeolus is going to get one of them…" Molly muttered.

"I've already told you!" Lily crossed her arms. "I don't like Aeolus! He's a prick!"

"Lily, watch your language," Aunt Angelina said, coming down the stairs with Roxy not too far behind.

"But she…"

"I don't care what she did. Just because she's being difficult doesn't mean you have to be uncivil. Rose, can you fix the window display? Roxy, go organize the store room. Lily, make sure the books are balanced. Molly, didn't you just sweep?"

"There's stuff on the floor." Molly said.

"Alright, alright. What do you guys want for lunch?"

3

"I'm bored," Hugo said, grabbing the branch in their backyard and pulling himself up. "Is there anything to do?"

"I dunno." Rose said, spreading her legs out, leaning against the tree.

"I don't want to go inside," he said. "_She's_ cleaning again." He bounced on the branch a bit.

"What's she cleaning? Didn't she already gut the house?"

"I dunno." Hugo shifted on the branch, the leaves rustling. "I just want to get out of here." He made a funny noise. "I don't want to be here anymore."

"You know you can always just go to the Cottage, right?"

"Dom's at work. I'm not hanging out with Lou. He's a fruitcake."

"Yeah. I hear you there."

"I'm just gonna hang until August. Uncle Charlie invited me to the reserve."

"Least you get out of here."

"You can go to Greg's whenever you want, so you have no right to complain."

"Yeah, yeah."

3

The house was silent. Rose rolled over and her arm fell off the edge of the bed. She could hear the crickets outside her window. She could hear Hugo snoring loudly in the other room. She could hear the clock ticking in the living room. She could hear the low hum of her grandmother's sleeping machine. She could hear her mother's heavy breathing. She sat up and put her feet on the cool floor, shivering in response. She stood up and looked around her room, trying not to shiver. She grabbed her father's sweatshirt laid across the back of her chair and slipped it over her head, inhaling deeply as his scent wrapped around her. She closed her eyes, for a second allowing herself to believe that he was wrapping his arms tightly around her, swinging her in circles like he used to do when she was small. When she opened them, and when she forced herself to remember he was dead, a cold sense of desolation wrapped around her.

The pipes creaked. She walked out of her room and almost went to the kitchen, but the light in her mum's study was on. Her socked feet making no noise on the hardwood, she stood in the doorway. Her mum was asleep on the couch, a book splayed on her stomach. Rose leaned against the doorjamb for a few seconds, wondering why she wasn't in her bed. She walked forward, intending to turn out the light, but stopped when she passed by the stack of journals. She bit her lip. Her mum was sleeping. She wouldn't know. Her hand hovered over the top journal of the taller stack, her heart pounding against her chest. She took it, her fingertips burning and her heart skipping a beat.

Her mum groaned and shifted. Careful not to make any noise, she walked over and flicked off the lamp. She didn't move for a few seconds, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness, and slipped into the hallway, slowly closing the door behind her.

Her dad's journal under one arm, she went into the sitting room and turned on a light. She folded her legs underneath her on the overstuffed chair, opening the worn notebook on one knee.

_23 December 1994 _

Rose ran her fingers over the messy scribbles. So her dad would be…fourteen? She was surprised at how messy it was. A part of her supposed it would look more like Hugo's precise script. Instead, it matched more her haphazard chicken scratches.

_Hermione's a traitor. _She smiled._ After all the time we've spent together and all we've talked about and everything we've done, she goes and says she has a date. A date! Who would date her? She isn't even that pretty. I mean, sure, she's got a nice smile, I guess, but other than that, nothing. And she doesn't have any pimples and nice eyes. And she does bite her lip and makes them red and they look pretty good._ Rose bit back a chuckle. _ But, I mean, there're other girls who're prettier. Like Lavender. And Parvati. And that girl that sits across from Neville all the time. I think she's a Hufflepuff. No one would want to go to the Yule Ball with her. All she'd do the whole time is rant about the tournament and all she knows about it. Who wants to listen to that? Although, I should ask her when the last someone died was…_

_ I saw her in the library today with _him_. _The last word was gone over several times and underlined with severity. _I think that's who's taking her. Victor Krum. He's the enemy! She shouldn't be talking to him. No. None. Not at all. He's good enough with his quidditch and wine and stuff. He doesn't need her. He doesn't deserve her, either. He's probably just using her. Trying to get Harry's strategy out of her. It's probably working, too. She probably just tells him whatever he wants because he pays extra attention to her because no one else will. Bastard. I hope he dies. _

_ It's not going to work, though. Harry's too good. I'm helping him, even if she won't. He'll win. Or, if not him, then Cedric. Although I hope it's Harry. So long as he doesn't die. _

_ Seamus is coming. If he catches me writing…_

Hugo loped down the hallway. Rose slid the notebook under the chair. He paused in the hallway, staring at Rose.

"What're you doin'?" He rubbed his eyes, yawning.

"Couldn't sleep."

He nodded and slipped into the kitchen. He shuffled back with a glass of water in his hand. His door clickled shut. Rose took the notebook from under the chair and started reading about the Yule Ball, Victor Krum, her mum, Neville, Ginny, and Harry.


	55. Chapter 55

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"Hugo, put on your sneakers," their mum said, coming down the hallway while pulling her hair back in a bun.

"Why?" Hugo muttered, not even glancing up from his bowl of cheerios.

"We're going to the Cottage. Everyone's going to be there."

"Everyone?" Rose sipped her coffee.

"Yes. Even Al and Aunt Ginny are going. Now both of you - go get dressed."

"I don't want to go," Rose muttered, starting to drown herself in coffee.

"Rose, you can't hide from your family forever."

"I'm not hiding."

"Hugo, go get dressed."

"Why doesn't Rose?"

"She will."

Hugo stood up, dumping his cereal in the sink, and moseyed miserably down the hallway.

"Alright," her mum said, taking a seat opposite her. "I…I don't think I've done well in handling some…crisis situations recently…" Her mum sat stiffly - straight back, folded hands, eyes glued to the table. Like she was in an interview or something. Rose sipped her coffee, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat. This was not going to end well.

"What do you mean?" Rose sipped her coffee.

"Chris." The name impaled Rose's chest and left her breathless, the memories of his smiling face, his warm hands, his strong body, sending shivers down her spine. And she remembered where he was now. A knot settled in her throat. "You've had a long year." Her mum shifted. "And…and Al…"

"I know about Al." Rose's words were hard and cold. Her mum looked up, slight surprise written on her face.

"Right. Of course. Is that…is that why…"

"No. I don't want to go because I don't want to go. There's nothing more to it. There's supposed to be a quiddtich game at Mattie's and…"

"Rose." Her mum reached out and touched her hand. "It's ok to be afraid."

Rose pulled away. "I'm not afraid."

Her mum looked speechless for a moment. "Of course not. You're my Gryffindor."

"I'm no one's Gryffindor." Rose crossed her arms, erecting her defense.

"You're your own Gryffindor, then," her mum said with a wry grin. "You can't let this

control your life, you know. It wasn't your fault. Letting this…letting him continue to have this…this control isn't going to…to get you anywhere, accomplish anything."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"What do you mean?"

"You act like you know why I don't want to go, but you have no clue. You think it's because I'm afraid of seeing Al without a leg?" She pushed the disgust from her mind. The disgust of what she had done and the disgust of lying straight to her mother's face. "Pathetic. What do you take me for?" Rose stood up and went down the hallway, leaving her mother sitting at the table. She slid into her room, her hands shaking, and sat down on the edge of her bed. She inhaled deeply, trying to get this shaking out of her hands, out of her shoulders, out of her body.

"Rose?" Her mum leaned against the door, the wood creaking slightly in response. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Rose snapped, forcing back the trembling fear in her voice.

There was silence. Rose could have sworn she heard a sniffle. Maybe a light sob.

"For letting this happen."

Her mum moved, the step of her feet giving her away. Rose bent forward, resting her elbows on her knees and pressed her palms to her cheeks. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, still trying to gain some sort of control on the shaking still racking her body.

Albus. He shouldn't have had to lose a leg. Her hands tightened into fists. Chris shouldn't have had to go to Azkaban. He just…lost his temper. Got a little aggressive. A little overprotective. He didn't even instigate it. Tears started to prick her eyes. If James and Fred hadn't run off…if she had just told them the truth. She inhaled a shaky breath.

"Rose, are you getting ready?" Hugo asked, completely unamused.

"Um…yeah," she said.

He opened the door and looked at her, his arms crossed.

"I didn't say you could come in," she said, her voice catching in his throat. He closed the door and sat down next to her. "What are you doing?" He wrapped an arm around her, then another, and then squeezed her tightly.

"It's not your fault," he whispered, his words low and confident. "You didn't make us fight."

"Hugo…" She looked at his red hair, messier and longer than it was when they had gotten out of school.

"You can't control us, Rose. We aren't puppets. We chose to fight and we did." He sat up and let his arms hang at his side. "If it's anyone's fault, then its Al's. He…he was the one who jumped in front of the curse." Hugo rubbed his left arm with his right hand, staring at the carpet. He looked up at Rose, his deep blue eyes seeming to go on forever. "Promise me you'll stop blaming yourself."

"Hugo…"

"Please."

"You should go get shoes on before mum starts yelling at you."

"Rose!" He stood up, his cheeks red. "You're being unreasonable!" Rose didn't say anything. "Ugh." He left.

Rose slipped on her clothes and stepped into her shoes before meeting her mum and Hugo in the sitting room.

3

Rose sat on the precipice rock, as usual, and looked down at the beach. Victoire and Teddy weren't arguing for once, but teasing Flora. James and Fred chased Lily and Molly with seaweed and fish or something. Lou, Lucy, and Roxy were swimming. Hugo, Dom, and Al sat up by the picnic tables, talking about one thing or another.

"So, Rosie." Mattie Finn sat down next to Rose. "Fight with your mother, I hear?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough. Perfectly normal, you know. Your Aunt Fleur tried to convince her of that. Nearly had the both of them in frustrated tears. I've never seen Hermione so…"

"Vulnerable?" Rose glanced at her.

Mattie shrugged. "Well, yeah. I mean…" She lay back on the grass. "I've seen her frustrated. I've seen her angry. I've seen her cry. But not like this. Not, as you say, vulnerable."

"Hey, Rose, Mattie," Greg said, sitting next to Rose. He groaned and joined Mattie on the grass. "It feels so good to lay down."

"You had your first practice today?" Rose guessed.

"Yesterday. Appleby." He closed his eyes.

"So I take it you don't have the analysis of the magical creature laws?" Mattie asked, glancing at him.

"No. Sorry. I'm…I'm probably not going to be able to do them."

"Eh, I figured as much once I got wind of your quidditch schedule. You're crazy."

"I know."

"How'd it go?" Rose kept her eyes on the setting sun, her mind entranced by the colors.

"Pretty good. I was asked to come back for the second day, if that means anything."

"How many other beaters were there?"

"About twenty."

"That's a lot."

"Mmm…yeah. I think only six of us were asked back. They aren't actually looking for any beaters, so the chances of us actually getting a spot there are slim. I know the Falcons need a beater, so I'm hoping to slide in there. It depends, though, if I can work well with Greene. Although, they might just get rid of her, too. Hopefully I'll be able to find someone I can work well with."

"I think the Wasps need a beater, too," Mattie said.

"But they have deep pockets," Rose chimed. "They'll be able to either pick off Greene or make a decent trade. I can't imagine the Falcons will want to hold onto Greene. I mean, sure, she's decent, but a huge part of that was Vista. Without him, I think she'll fall flat. Besides, she just doesn't have the power. She's just a scrawny little thing."

"That can change, though," Greg said. "All she needs to do is spend some more time in the gym."

"But she won't."

"And she definitely has other priorities," Mattie said.

"Like what? She's a quidditch player. It's what he does," Greg defended.

"Lies," Rose said languidly. "She's involved in several charities which deter her from spending any more time than she already is on quidditch."

"Maybe she'll retire," Greg suggested.

"Too young." Mattie rolled over onto her stomach and looked over at the picnic tables. "She's got a decade left."

"Yeah, and I got four."

"If you play your cards right." Rose laid down on her stomach next to Mattie and watched Teddy carry Flora to the picnic tables, Vicky following shortly after, laughing at something Dom said.

"I can't wait to play with the Falcons," Greg said. "If I'm good enough, I'll get some one on one time with Greene."

"They'll be looking for a vet to fill that spot," Rose said. "Greene's a defensive player, not offensive."

"I know, but that doesn't mean she won't be able to help with my technique or something." Greg flopped onto his stomach, his cheek pressed into the grass. "Wake me up for marshmallows."

3

"No! James!" Lily screeched, batting away the burnt marshmallow from her face. "Get it away!"

"What? You don't like a black marshmallow? You seem to like black hair," James said, standing up and teasing her even more.

"James! Stop it!"

"Oh, come on, Lily…" He waved the stick.

She grabbed the stick and snapped it. James looked at the pieces on the ground, his face frowning.

"Now you have to give me yours," James said, holding out his hand.

"No," Lily said, holding her perfectly straight stick with a half-gold marshmallow on the end close to her. "There's no way. It's your own fault."

"Lily!"

"No!"

"Here," Greg said, tossing his stick at James.

"You don't want another?" James asked, picking up the longest stick of the bunch.

"No. I'm good." Greg leaned back against the picnic table bench. "I think I'm gonna be sick with how many hotdogs I ate."

"Well, you did have, like, ten," Rose muttered. She sat down on top of the picnic table, her feet resting flat on the bench.

Lily sat down with Molly by the fire.

"I can't believe the others already went in," Fred said, grabbing another marshmallow. "It's early, isn't it?"

"Sometimes its ten, sometimes it's one, what do you want?" Molly said. "Lily, go inside and grab the firewhiskey."

"No," James said.

"James, she isn't four," Molly said. "And it isn't like anyone's going to notice. They fly through alcohol at these things like candy. One bottle isn't going to make a difference."

"It will when my mum notices the alcohol on her breath."

"Let her make the decision herself," Molly said, crossing her arms and looking towards Lily.

"He's right. My mum would kill me," Lily said.

"So you're not going to do it?"

"Why don't you do it?"

"Because ever since Hugo spilt the beans in front of Vicky about ROR, they've had it out for me. I can't just waltz in there and grab a bottle of firewhiskey. Do you know how obvious it would be?"

"Well, I'm not risking the wrath of my mother," Lily said. "And that's final."

"Rose?" Molly looked towards the picnic table.

"Absolutely not," Rose said.

"Why not? You have the perfect excuse. You're a troubled youth."

"Oh, thanks, Molly," Rose said, crossing her arms.

"So you'll do it?" Molly grinned up at her.

"Um…no."

"You'll get no where with her," James said, touching the goopy marshmallow on the end of his stick.

"Rose," Greg said, tilting his head back so he was looking at her upside down. "Are you doing anything Wednesday?"

"Why?" She motioned towards Fred for the marshmallows.

"I was wondering if you'd come to the last Arrow's recruitment day."

"Why?" Rose caught the bag of marshmallows and shoved two in her mouth. "Isn't it, like, for players only?" She struggled to swallow.

"Well…there's two reasons." He sounded unsure of himself. James and Fred both sat attentive. "I've had some conversations with one of the managers…particularly with the one chiefly involved in analyzing the game…and I'd like to introduce you."

"The Arrows have the worst analyst in the league…even worse than the cannons. He plays experience over talent. Bad move."

"Give me the marshmallows before you eat them all," Lily said, holding out her hand for the toss.

Rose stuck her tongue out, grabbed a handful, and tossed them to her cousin.

"He said he might be able to hook you up with the Harpie's analyst. I hear she's looking for an assistant."

The four marshmallows she was trying to chew fell out of her gaping jaw, dropping with a dull _plop_ onto the bench in front of her, followed by a thick strand of drool.

"So ladylike," Lily muttered, turning her stick.

"I thought you'd like that," Greg said, grinning. Rose quickly wiped the saliva from her lip.

"Wednesday?" She nudged the glob of wet marshmallow onto the ground. "What time?"

"Meet me at my place at six."

"At night?"

Greg laughed. "The morning."

Rose's face paled.


	56. Chapter 56

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"Rose stumbled out of Greg's fireplace, struggling to tie her shoe. She glanced at her watch. Six fifteen. Damn it. She stood up, brushing the soot from her jeans and sweatshirt.

"You're late," Greg said, laughing at her from the door to the kitchen.

"Yeah, well…it's early."

"Did you eat?"

"Uh…no."

"Sit down. You like cocoa puffs?"

"What?"

"Just eat." He threw a box of cereal in front of her, a bowl, spoon, and half gallon of milk shortly following. "I gotta go figure out what I did with my wand." He disappeared up the stairs tucked in the corner.

Tentatively, Rose poured some cocoa puffs into the bowl. Tentatively, she tried one. Not too bad. She filled the bowl and topped it off with milk, quickly starting to eat under the impression they had to get out of there.

"Hello," his dad said, sitting across from her. She almost spit out the cereal. Was it ok that she was eating his food? "I hear you're going with Greg today?"

She struggled to swallow and nodded.

"Don't mind me," he said, opening up his paper. "Do you drink coffee?" He stood up suddenly.

"Um…"

"Here, take some anyway." He put some sugar on the table and gave Rose a tall cup of steaming coffee. She dumped in some sugar and then poured in a touch of milk. Ignoring her cereal, she downed her coffee.

"So you do like coffee," he muttered from behind his paper.

Rose blushed red.

"Found it," Greg said, thundering down the stairs.

"Good. Where was it?" his dad asked.

"Laundry." He plopped down in a chair with a bowl and poured himself some cereal. "Found the coffee?"

"Er…yeah."

"What's in the paper today?"

"They're trying to use microbots to combat cancer…not going to work out well, in my opinion. Too many variables and far too expensive."

"That's ridiculous." Greg shook his head, his mouth full of cereal. "I mean, sure, do what you can, but so much can wrong…like what if they go haywire or lose control?"

"There're rumors that South Korea is threatening North Korea with nuclear weapons and North Korea is getting some uranium from Iran…"

"For the love of God…"

"And…Andretti is coming out with a new book."

"Ooh…that sounds good."

"Oh, it looks it, too."

"About?" He took a gulp of orange juice. Rose sipped her coffee, looking at the two. His father a skinny man with a bald head and gray goatee. Him a tall, stocky teen with a full head of russet hair. And both of them looked the same intellectually with the same interest and the same ideas rattling in their minds.

"Liam Porter. Former spy. He thought his rogue days were over. Until he gets a call from an old friend with a big problem. Now he must choose between what he knows is right, and what he feels is right in Andy Andretti's new thriller, _Spied_." He shrugged and took a bite out of a piece of toast. "Sounds exciting, if you ask me. I'll have to put in a preorder at Carmel's."

"You'll send it to me when you're done, right?"

"I might get two copies. It looks like something I might be able to use in my philosophy class. You know how Andretti gets. This sounds no different."

"Mmm. I'd love to be in that class."

"If I've told you once, I've told you thousands of times, Greg. I give you all my lectures before I even suggest them to the class."

"I know. I still want to know what you're students say."

"I know you pry through my evaluations, so don't even pretend…"

"Yeah, yeah." He drank the milk from the bottom of the bowl and poured himself another.

"You're going to eat me out of house and home," his father said.

"There's plenty of food. You hardly eat anything, anyway.

"I eat plenty, thank you very much." He turned the page of the paper. "Oh, take a look at this. Red Foot's getting a pace maker." He shook his head. "That man never should have been given that position. Nepotism is what it is."

"Agreed."

"What time do you have to leave?"

"Seven thirty," Greg said.

"You told me six!" Rose said, putting down her coffee.

"I thought you wouldn't get here until seven. You usually run late. I was surprised when you showed up. I was glad I put on clothes. I was in my boxers thirty seconds before."

"You shouldn't tell girls things like that, Greg. That's how they run away screaming," his dad said. "Oh, and Germany's started a nuclear power plant in its northern sector."

"God, dammit." Greg shook his head and started eating more cereal. "What do they think it's going to accomplish? More agony with Poland?"

"Poland doesn't care."

"Of course not." Greg sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I hate my hair."

"I told you that you shouldn't have cut it." His dad turned the page in the paper. "That new movie about talking rats has gotten terrible reviews, it seems."

"Did you expect anything less?"

"The one about the monkeys on Uranus seems to be doing well…"

"You expected anything less? I still want to see the one about the kid who gets put in jail…"

"You should probably leave soon, Greg."

"Oh, yeah. Come on, Rose. I'll apparate us."

3

"Rose, this is Elijah Mann, analyst for the Arrows," Greg said. "Eli, this is Rose Weasley, the girl I was telling you about."

Elijah Mann, a portly fellow a good foot shorter than Greg, offered his hand. Rose took it, her grip sturdy.

"Come with me," he said. "I have someone I'd like to introduce you to." Elijah led the way through the hallway, down the stairs, out of the stadium and into a coffee shop across the street.

"Katie Bell. Let me tell you, you'll be lucky to work with someone as savvy as she is. She's got over a decade in the business. Worked for the best, worked with the best, and now the best works for her." He opened the door to the shop. "There she is, in the corner. The two year old is her daughter, Liberty. She isn't married, so don't ask, and she loves quidditch more than breathing."

"Ok."

"Katie!" Elijah said loudly, opening his arms for a hug. Katie stood up and hugged him, a forced naturalness to her movements. "This is Rose Weasley, the girl I was telling you about? Promising talent. Simply promising."

"Hello," Katie said, offering a hand to rose. "Katie Bell."

"You already know my name." Rose shook her hand. Katie smiled, approving, Rose hoped.

"Indeed. Please, take a seat both of you."

"I'm afraid I can't today, Katie." Elijah glanced at his watch. "I'm already late for a meeting. So I must be going."

"Well, have fun at your meeting, then, Eli."

"Of course, of course." Elijah slipped out of the coffee shop and Katie let go of a long breath.

"Thank Merlin he left without a fuss," Katie said, grinning. "If there was one thing I wish someone had told me before I took this post, it would be that politics are as integral to the job as quidditch."

Rose glanced at the little brown haired girl peacefully playing with crayons.

"She won't be any trouble," Katie said. "She'll sit there for hours drawing pictures. Please, take a seat."

The two sat down.

"I'm glad I finally get to meet you. Ron used to rave about his daughter - the quidditch wiz. From what your mother tells me, you're a pretty quick study, too."

"Oh, thanks. You knew my dad?"

"Yep. Played quidditch with him."

"Was he any good? Harry insists he was, otherwise he wouldn't be on the team."

Katie laughed. "He was terrible as far as keepers go. Unreliable at best."

"Harry insists he was as good as Hugo, but Hugo is mediocre. Not too good, but not bad, either. Solid and reliable, but a good shot can get by him easily." She shook her head. "Not like Lily. Nothing can get by her. Even her mum has trouble against her. Personally, I think she could make it professionally, but she's still young." Rose shrugged.

"Are you a Cannons-lover like your father?"

"I was until they got Swod. That's just sinking to lows I refuse to go. No. Wood's the best in the league."

"Agreed."

"When do you go back to Hogwarts?"

"In a couple of weeks."

"And this is your seventh year?"

"Sixth, actually."

"Ok, this is what I'm going to do. Saturday I'm going to pick you up and take you to the Harpies Cannons game. Casual. No business. I just want to get to know you more, to figure out if you're a good fit for the team."

"Sounds good to me."

"Now, if you don't mind, I have to get this one to her father's before he tries to take away custody again." Katie picked up her daughter and magicked her coloring things into a bag. "Eight o'clock. Be ready."

"I will. Thank you."

"Not a problem. To be honest, I think you will be a good fit. I just want to make sure first." Grinning, Katie left, her daughter babbling toddler nonsense Rose couldn't decipher.

Rose sighed and grinned. This might actually work.

3

Rose threw her WWW robes on and slipped into the kitchen, grabbing the toast she had made a few minutes earlier. Scoffing it down, she fumbled through the cabinets for floo powder. She was already late.

Her grandmother coughed from the table. Rose glanced over her shoulder, her grandmother doubled over in coughing.

"You ok?" Rose asked, looking at her.

"Yes," she said, waving her off. "I'm fine. Nothing to worry about. Healthy as an ox. Don't you have to get to work?"

"Er…yeah. I'm already late, actually."

"Well, then, get going." The old woman waved her off, starting to cough again.

Rose grabbed the floo powder and went off.

3

"I want a cat," Lily sighed, leaning forward on the counter.

"I thought you weren't going to get one because your last one died," Molly said, blowing on her nails.

"She didn't _die_, Fred and James _killed _her! So, naturally, they owe me a cat." She crossed her arms.

"I didn't hear this story," Rose said, leaning on her broom.

"They fed him explosives. Disgusting. They were experimenting with explosive diarrhea chocolates. And poor, poor Kitty had to pay the cost."

"You're terrible," Molly said. "You probably fed the cat the explosives because it wouldn't stop peeing on your bed."

"No! I trained it specifically only to pee on James's bed. So there." She stuck her tongue out.

Molly shook her head and kept on counting the money in the drawer.


	57. Chapter 57

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Rose paced back and forth, her arms tightly wrapped around her stomach.

"What're you doing?" Hugo asked, coming out of the hallway.

"I'm going to a quidditch game."

"With…?"

"Katie Bell."

"Who's that?"

"The Harpie's analyst…"

"Oh." He walked into the kitchen.

The doorbell rang. Rose jumped and opened the door, letting in Katie, a loose sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder and her jeans worn.

"Ready to go?" she asked, offering her hands for aparation.

"Yep." Rose grabbed her hand.

3

"Harpies," Rose sighed, looking out over the field. "The Cannons don't have a chance."

"Agreed," Katie said, leaning against the rail in the private box reserved for Harpies personnel. "What do you think of Wood?"

"Love her."

"Swod?"

"Over-hyped."

"Is that code for 'hate her'?"

Rose glanced at her and gave a lopsided grin. Katie stared laughing.

"I hate her image more than anything," Rose explained, watching the Harpies seeker pull a feint. "She's too public. Too much pressure, especially for a rookie."

"Alright, I can see that."

"Did he just see the snitch?" Rose bounced on her toes to try and get a good look at the orange robes flying out behind the Cannons seeker.

"No. He's trying to throw Anna off."

"Ah."

"How long do you give them?"

"I don't know. The conditions are really good. It can't be that long." Rose squinted into the sunlight. "I give them…half an hour more."

"That's it?"

"Well, yeah. The gold'll be obvious in the sun. And the Harpies seeker is mad decent."

"Mad decent?" Katie started laughing again. Rose grinned to herself and stared at the game. The Harpies scored again. "So, Rose, are you seeing anyone?"

"No."

"Really?"

"You sound so surprised." Rose leaned slightly to see one of the Cannons chasers get thwacked with a bludger. She winced.

"I just figured you and Greg…"

"No. We're just friends."

"He honestly hasn't even tried?"

"No. I recently…got out of a bad relationship." She swallowed, forcing herself to focus on the play the Harpies chasers were making. "That's not going to work. The Cannons beaters are…" Suddenly, they broke from the play and did a maneuver that landed the quaffle in the hoop. "Nevermind."

"Yeah, I've had a few of those." Katie grimaced as Wood took a bludger to the gut. "Controlling, manipulative, and overbearing?"

"Uh…yeah."

"How long?"

"Um…like…nine months? Almost a year? I don't really remember exactly." Her hands tightened against the bar as the wind whipped against her face. A white cloud floated in front of the sun.

"That's always difficult."

"Greg's been really good about the whole thing."

"He would."

Rose smirked to herself and groaned as the Cannons scored.

"He's a good kid," Katie said. "He's going to be a fantastic beater, especially if the Arrows can find a suitable partner for him."

"So the Arrows are definitely going to give him an offer?"

"You didn't hear it from me, but yes. They want him with Greene. Or, at least, see if he's good with Greene."

"What does Greene have to do with the Arrows?"

Katie smirked. "The Arrows are getting rid of their beaters. Both of them. Just to get Greene. So their focus is to get someone to co with her. I wish she worked well with women. I'd convince someone to get her for the Harpies in place of Carol." She shook her head. "She works well with most guys, though. And Greg definitely has enough power to complete her strategy. And he's sharp enough to keep up with her."

"Is she married?"

Katie started all-out laughing. "No! Not at all. The only thing she cares about is quidditch and women. Why? Are you afraid Greg'll catch her fancy?"

"No." Her voice squeaked slightly. She cleared her throat, Katie grinning and staring out at the pitch.

"It's ok to like him, you know," Katie said. "He's a good guy, and obviously likes you."

"I know." Rose leaned forward. "And I don't."

"Ok, whatever you say."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Green."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I get that a lot." She scratched the back of her head. "She's just…I don't know. The first person who didn't try to change me." She shrugged. "Liberty likes her, too, which is rare."

"What about her father?"

"Liberty's?"

"Yeah."

Katie snorted. "Perfect example of the controlling, manipulative, overbearing type. I don't know what it is about me and controlling men…" She shook her head. "Anyway, have you thought about how you're going to juggle quidditch and a personal life?"

"Uh…what do you mean?"

"No matter what branch of the biz you're in, you're going to be swamped. I'm sure you've already seen it with Greg…"

"We aren't going out."

"You're still friends, right? I'm sure you haven't seen him all that much. My position isn't much better. You travel with the team, have meetings with the players, monitor practices, review games, review the games of everyone else in the league, and compile files upon files of information. Not to mention meeting with other team analysts and trying to politically get a feel for what they've picked up on from your team." Katie shrugged. "It's a lot of work. Takes a lot of time."

"I never really thought about it."

"I just thought I'd give you a heads up about the commitment. Ministry jobs are far more compartmentalized."

"But far less amusing."

"Yep."

"I think they've seen the snitch."

Katie glanced down at her watch. "Looks like you were right. Twenty eight minutes. Dinner on me."

3

"Butterbeer for you, Firewhiskey for me, and wine for you," Greene said, sitting down at the table between Wood and Katie.

"Nice game, Wood." The Harpies beaters came up behind Rose and sat down on either side of her.

"So you're Katie's protégé?" The blond one asked. "I'm Carol, this is Ollie."

"Uh…I guess so," Rose said.

"You're a Weasley, right?" Ollie asked. "What's it like being related to the most powerful wizards in the history of wizards?"

Green chucked a french fry at her. "Be polite, will you? Don't scare her away yet."

"Agreed," Wood said, taking a sip of her water.

"Ron and Hermione are just like anyone else," Katie said, grabbing a cracker out of the basket. "

"I don't believe that," Carol said. "They both destroyed horcruxes and teamed up with Potter. You have to be pretty beastly to take that on."

"Well, I'm not saying they weren't talented. I mean, the Weasleys are notoriously fantastic witches and wizards, and Hermione is still considered one of the more brilliant minds of the ministry, but Ron was more Fred and George than Percy, if you get what I'm saying."

"No…we don't," Ollie said. "Who's Fred?"

"Fred and George Weasley - the founders of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes?" Carol said.

"Yes, that Fred and George." Katie waved her hands for emphasis.

"I didn't know there was a Fred," Wood said.

"George doesn't like talking about it a lot. His twin brother. Died during the Battle of Hogwarts." Katie sighed. "They were inseparable. George was the brains, Fred the wit. Quite the duo. Always shoved their work on me and Angelina. Same as Ron did to Hermione. And Ron would take puking pastels over studying any day. More the twins than Percy. Or even Bill, he was pretty serious, if I remember correctly." She took a sip of wine.

"What did they get on their NEWTs?" Rose asked, interested in the family history none of her family spoke aloud.

"They didn't. End of seventh year, before the NEWTs, they set off fireworks and left to start the joke shop. They loved that shop. It was a pathetic little thing in Diagon Alley when they started. The size of a postage stamp. It's astounding how huge it's gotten. I hear they're looking to open up another shop?"

"Yeah, one in Godric's Hollow. James and Fred want to head the campaign."

"I would not trust those boys in their own shop," Wood said. "Talk about a recipe for disaster."

"I'm surprised they actually graduated. I would have sworn they would drop out." Katie shook her head. "It'd had been a tradition. Joke shop immediately goes to dropping out. First the twins, and then Ron."

"Wait…my dad never graduated Hogwarts?" Rose nearly jumped out of her chair.

"No." Katie chuckled. "Your dad and mum went with Harry and skipped seventh year. Well, your mum returned to finish, but she never took the NEWTs."

"So they skipped seventh year to go and gallivant around the world?"

"No. To save the world," Katie corrected, her tone somber.

"Oh."

"Your parents are heroes," Green said, her voice surprisingly light and feminine for one of the best strategic beaters in the league. "To everyone. Not just England."

"She went to Durmstrang," Ollie whispered. "She knows these things."

"Ok, I'll keep that in mind. And are you sure my mum never took the NEWTs?"

"Positive. She…sort of…had a break down near the end of the year. McGonagall gave her exemption. There were a few other people who got it, too. Mostly Slytherins." Katie shrugged.

"How do you know all this?" Cara asked.

"I was recruiting Ginny at the same time." Katie shrugged. "She needed someone to vent to."

"Rose, have you ever thought about playing?" Green asked, leaning across the table.

"I can't fly."

The table stared at her.

"What do you mean?" Wood's voice was flat. "You know everything there is to know about quidditch and you can't _fly_?"

"I have terrible balance."

"I need proof," Ollie said, crossing her arms.

"Oh, we'll make sure you'll get it," Carol said. "Come on, let's go." The beaters grabbed her arms and stared to drag her out of the bar, Wood, Green, and Katie following.


	58. Chapter 58

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"I can't fly this broom," Rose said, crossing her arms and staring at the professional-grade Comet.

"And why not?" Ollie asked. "It's my broom. Sturdy. Won't tip on you at all."

"Not a seeker's broom," Cara confirmed.

"I don't know…"

"Trust me. My little cousin can ride it and he's four. It's a good broom." Ollie put her hand on the handle. "It's good."

"We have charms at the ready if you fall," Katie waved her wand. Greene\ grinned, her wand in her hand at her side.

"Which you won't need," Wood said.

"I don't think you understand how bad I am…"

"Show us." Ollie crossed her arms.

"We aren't going to leave you alone until you do," Cara added.

Rose sighed and straddled the broom, her fingers wrapping tightly around the slick handle. Her heart skipped a beat. It would be so easy to slip off this broom, freshly waxed after a game. She pushed off from the ground with the balls of her feet and started to slowly go up, wobbling slightly.

"It's ok," she told herself, her heart feeling as if it would burst out of her chest. She hadn't been on a broom since first year. And even then, she had nearly fallen off. She closed her eyes and tried to settle her stomach.

"Alright, that's enough," Katie said, grabbing Rose's foot and dragging back the ten feet to the ground. "You can't fly."

Rose slipped off the back of the broom and landed on her behind.

"I'll a word with Greg about that," Greene\ said.

"You already know about the trade?" Katie looked towards her.

"The Arrows rooked us both into having a practice together." She shrugged. "He'll get you on a broom."

"Ha, yeah right." Rose stood up and brushed off her pants. "I'll be damned if that ever happens."

3

Rose wrapped her arms around her pillow, pressing her cheek into the patch of drool that had accumulated there overnight. She groaned slightly and rolled over, her tank top riding up her stomach and her shorts falling down. It was uncomfortable, but she didn't move.

Someone knocked on her door. She groaned.

"Rose?"

"Who is it?" Rose sat up and pulled down her shirt. It wasn't Hugo or her mum. Definitely a guy's voice. "Uncle Percy?"

"Nah, it's Greg."

"What?" She hopped up and pulled up her shorts, the strap of her tank top sliding off her shoulder. She opened her door and, sure enough, he stood in front of her in a pair of loose cargo shorts and a blue tee-shirt.

He stared at her, a bit shocked to find her in pajamas. She suddenly became incredibly self-concious, admitting that the shorts didn't fit her as loosely as they used to and the tank was one she wouldn't in a million years wear in public. Not to mention she wasn't wearing a bra…

"Er…what're you doing here?" she asked, sliding halfway behind her door.

"Oh, um…" He cleared his throat, his cheeks red. "Rachel told me I had to teach you how to…um…" He closed his eyes and cleared his throat again. "Teach you how to ride a broom."

"Rachel?"

"Rachel Green? Beater for the Falcons? Evidently you had dinner with her the other night…she yelled at me for…err…well, let's not get into exactly _what_ she yelled at me for, but…yeah…so, I brought some brooms. I have my first one, which is pretty basic, a lot more reliable than the ones at school, but not nearly as intimidating as the others, as well as a…a larger version…"

"Yeah, I'll….um…just put on some…um…clothes."

"Yeah. That'd be…um…good."

"Yeah."

Greg didn't move. Neither did Rose.

"Why don't you, like, grab something to drink in the kitchen?" Rose said.

"Right. OK. Good idea." He turned away, the back of his neck bright red, and slipped down the hallway.

Rose closed the door and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that he didn't think she was completely disgusting. Quickly, she stripped down and put on clothes - a loose pair of cloth shorts, a tank top, and a sweatshirt. She glanced in the mirror. Merlin, her hair was a mess, too. She sighed and quickly fixed her general appearance. She slipped from her room, a pair of socks in her pocket, and went into the kitchen. Greg hung over the sink, the water running.

"Um…hey."

He jumped.

"Oh, hey." Forcing a sense of casualty, he ran a hand through his hair. "Um…sorry about that. I just…didn't think…"

"It's…it's fine," she said, awkwardly putting her hands in the pocket of her hoodie.

"Right. Um…do you think I could use your bathroom for a minute? You…you should probably get something to eat."

"Yeah. It's the door off the living room."

"Thanks." He slipped out of the kitchen.

"Great," she muttered. "I made him sick."

"Who is that?" Her grandmother asked, slipping out of the living room.

"A friend," Rose said.

"Then why are you red in the face."

"He saw me in my pajamas!" She crossed her arms indignantly.

"Ahuh, sure."

Her grandmother started to make breakfast. "Is he going to be eating with us?"

"Oh, I haven't a clue."

Greg came back into the kitchen, his hair a bit wet and most of the red gone from his cheeks until he glanced at Rose again.

"Will you be eating breakfast with us, young man?" Grandma Granger asked, turning on Greg.

"No thank you, Mrs. Weasely, I've already eaten," he said, grinning slightly.

"I'm Mrs. Granger," she said.

"Oh, sorry. I just…Sorry, Mrs. Granger." His blush deepened.

"Well, you two have fun. No hanky panky, do you hear me?" she turned to Greg.

"Of course not, ma'am." He looked like he was going to pass out.

"Ok. Off you go."

"My broomsticks are out front." Greg led the way and let out a sigh when they made it to the yard. The sun was still low in the sky, the cool from the night still clinging to the air.

"What time is it?" Rose asked.

"Seven."

"Why'd you get me up at seven?" She watched him pick up the five brooms he brought.

"I dunno. I was bored."

"What time did you wake up?" She struggled to stifle a yawn.

"Mmm…five?" He flung the brooms over his broad shoulders, grimacing slightly. "I couldn't sleep well. Too hot. Although it didn't seem like you had a problem."

"I…" She blushed red and dug her hands in her pockets.

"Anyway, I figured we'd start out doubling up, just so I can show you everything, and then you can grab the starter broom and we can take it from there."

"Um…Ok."

He leaned the brooms carefully against the side of the house and picked out the largest one with a handle fifty percent bigger than the others.

"So, to start off I'll be in the front, and then after I go over everything with you, I'll let you be in the front."

"You know, I really don't have to be in the front." She watched as he straddled the broom.

"We'll burn that bridge when we come to it, now why don't you hop on and hold on?"

"Burn bridges? Isn't that counter productive?"

Greg just grinned impishly. "Get on. Or Rachel's gonna kill me."

"Ugh." Tentatively, she got on behind him.

"Now wrap your arms around me. I don't want you sliding off the back."

Rose blushed and wrapped her arms around him, his thin tee-shirt doing little to hide his six pack. Her blush deepened and she slid back a little.

"You're going to fall off," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

"No."

"Whatever."

He took off, the air rushing through Rose's and the quick ascent made her scream. Her arms tightened around Greg, her body sliding forward on the broom until she was pressed tightly against him. Greg quickly slowed down after that, catching on.

"Too fast?" His voice was unusually high. He cleared his throat.

"Yes." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Sorry."

"I think I'm gonna puke." There was nothing underneath her. No ground. No trees. Nothing to hold onto if she tripped. Nothing to catch her if she fell.

"Take deep breaths," Greg said, putting his hands on hers.

"Hold onto the broom!" She shrieked and squeezed her eyes shut, absolute fear beginning to claw at her chest.

"Relax, ok? It's perfectly safe."

"No it's not!" The fear roared, taking away any solace his presence gave her.

"Rose…"

"No!" Tears started to build behind her eyes, her breathing starting to hitch in her chest.

"Hey, hey…it's ok…"

She started crying, unable to stay firm against the terrifying monolith taking residence in her stomach.

"Are you…are you crying?" He glanced over his shoulder but couldn't see her pressed against his shirt.

"I-I want to g-go down!" Her fingers tightened around his shirt.

"Um…yeah. Ok. That's probably a good idea."

Slowly, Greg brought the broom to the ground, his feet touching down before hers. She just crumpled to her knees, her hands wrapping tightly around the grass, tears streaming down her face.

"Rose…are you ok?"

"I…I just h-hate flying…"

Greg knelt down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Rose turned into him without hesitation, holding him tightly.

"Why didn't you just say you didn't like it instead of pretending you can't?"

"I'm a Gryffindor." She wiped her tears away. "We aren't supposed to be afraid."

Greg stared at her for a few seconds, shock on his face, before bursting out laughing. At first, Rose felt embarrassment burn her skin, but then she started laughing, too.

"That's ridiculous," Greg said. "Gryffindor or not, everyone's afraid of _something_."

"What're you afraid of?" She sat back on her heels and watched him.

"Thunder."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm." They stared at each other for a few seconds, awkward at best. "Hey, I have a quick question…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you could show me where Hugo keeps his broom? I just want to make sure he's keeping it in good condition. The kid doesn't care enough, you know?"

"Yeah. It's in the basement. I haven't been down there in awhile, so I have no clue what's there, but I know that's where he's supposed to keep his broom."

The two of them stood up, Rose leading the way through the back door and down the stairs into the basement.

She paused at the bottom, staring at the rack of brooms against the back wall and the bench pushed to one side with a half-refurbished broom on the table. Her heart skipped a beat. All of it was dusty except for Hugo's Nimbus on the rack. Evidently, her mum had preserved some of her father.

"Wow," Greg said, looking around. "This is like…amazing…" He walked over to the shelf full of decrepit brooms. "Merlin…This is an _original _Comet." He stared at the broom with a cracked handle, only half the bristles, and of those half only a quarter in decent condition. He turned to the rack of brooms, squinting through the dust to make out the models. "Are these Hugo's?" He turned to look at Rose, who was still standing on the bottom step.

"No," she said, her voice small. "They…they were my father's."

"Oh." He took a step back, as if he had invaded hallow ground.

"The only person who's been down here is Hugo. He didn't touch anything."

"So…what did he do down here?" He looked at some of the drawers in the shelving system taking up an entire wall.

"Rebuilt brooms."

"Seriously?" Greg brushed some of the dust off one of the drawers and read the label. "Wax. How much wax does he have?"

"I don't know. He'd spend his Saturdays down here. He used to try to get Hugo involved, but he would have none of it and I…well, I hated brooms."

Greg chuckled a bit and went over to the work bench. "Do you mind if I clean off some of this dust? I was wondering what kind of broom this is…"

"Go ahead. No one else is going to."

Greg sat down on the bench and pulled out the drawer, looking in it. Grinning, he pulled out a rag and a bit of polish. With great care, he slowly cleaned the broom handle, with each stroke becoming more and more impressed.

"Did he restore all of these?" He motioned with his head to the wall.

"Um…yeah. Except for Hugo's broom."

"Wow." Greg shook his head. "That's…he was good." He held the broom handle in his hands. "A Nimbus two thousand. He completely put the handle back together. It looks like it was shattered somehow." He shook his head, turning the handle and marveling at it. "I'm…wow." He gently put the broom back where he found it. "Do you care if I polish the rest?"

"Go ahead."

He quickly snatched the first of five brooms and polished it with care and expertise. He laughed and held it out. "A Cloud Nine!" He put it back and did the next. Rose watched him make his way through all five of her father's old brooms, restoring them to the shining perfection she remembered them as. "Firebolt!" "Pheonix 650, a great family broom." "Cleansweep." "Is this…a Moontrimmer? Where did your dad _find_ one of these?"

Rose smiled at him, amused by his boyish enthusiasm.

"I mean…this has got to be worth at least a hundred thousand galleons…probably more." He brushed his fingers reverently along the handle. "This is…wow. I never thought I'd see one of these…"

"Why don't you go and try to fly it?"

He looked at Rose, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

"Wouldn't your mum get angry?" He swallowed and put it back.

"I doubt it. She's never down here."

Greg bit his lip, grabbed the broom, and ran outside. Rose laughed and followed after him. The broom hovered over the ground and Greg stared at it, marveling.

"This is an amazing broom," he whispered, his fingers tracing the grains of wood.

"Just ride it, already."

"You want to ride it with me?" Greg grined at her, straddling the broomstick.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright, you asked for it." He took off, shooting quickly up and tucking his feet expertly behind him. Rose watched him float around the house, doing loops and whooping with delight.

"The handling sucks!" He laughed loudly and slowly started to descend. He landed on his feet and held the broom between his two hands gently. "Oh, man. I can't even imagine playing quidditch on this thing." He went back inside, Rose following after him.

He rummaged through shelves and pulled out a small shovel and went back outside.

"What are you doing?" Rose asked, watching him mount his broom. He hovered at the level of the gutters and started to carefully reached into the gutter and flung leaves and twigs onto the ground underneath him.

"Cleaning the gutters. When was the last time this was done?"

"Why are you cleaning the gutters?"

Greg looked down at her a grinned. "Well _you_ certainly aren't going to get up on a broom and clean your gutters and I wouldn't trust Hugo to do a good job. The kid's got a good heart, but he doesn't have a clue." He flung some leaves at her.

"I can't let you do that." Rose crossed her arms. He looked at her and sighed.

"Do you want to help?"

"What?"

"Help. Do you want to help?"

"Um…I guess. What do you need?"

Greg lowered the broom and grinned. "Get on."

"What?"

"Look, it isn't that high, and you don't even have to let go. Get on." He grinned at her. "Then you wouldn't have to feel bad about me keeping your house."

"Greg…"

"Come on."

"Fine." Rose hopped on the broom and pressed herself tightly against his solid body, her heart pounding against her chest. He slowly tapped off, ascending so slowly that Rose didn't even notice how far off the ground they were unless she looked. But she kept her cheek pressed against his back and eyes only half-open.

"Are you ok?" He asked, stopping the ascension.

"Mhmm." Her arms tightened around his waist.

"Alright." He started to shovel the garbage out of the gutters.

"Are you sure you have time to do this?" Rose asked, her fingers digging into his stomach.

"Oh, yeah. I'm off today."

"Today's your day off and you're cleaning my gutters?"

He grinned over his shoulder. "No. It's my day off and I'm flying with you."

Rose opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. She opened her mouth again and said, "Well, I can't fly."

"What do you think you're doing now?"

"Holding onto you as if my life depended on it."

He urged the broom slightly forward. Rose inhaled sharply, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I'm gonna fall," she said.

"No you aren't." Greg patted her hands and struggled to see in the gutter. "I think you have a hole here." He took his wand out of his pants and tapped it, muttering a spell. "Did your dad used to do this?"

"Um…sometimes. He didn't do it often."

"Sounds a lot like Hugo, from what I've heard." He reached in with his hand and rattled around until he pulled out a foot long stick. "I wish I could've met him. He sounds like he would have some good conversation."

"He'd probably hate you." Rose grinned slightly.

"How do you figure? I'm cleaning his gutters."

"Yeah, but you like me."

Greg paused, the back of his neck quickly reddening.

"Er…oh. That. Right." He scratched the back of his neck and continued working.

"What? You don't?"

"No. No, not at all." He cleared his throat. "So you think he'd hate me?"

"Hate you or love you. Then, he'd hate me for not going out with you."

"Then what would you do?" Greg put both his hands on the broomstick, as if bracing himself for the response. Rose's heart throbbed against her ribs.

"I don't know." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Probably give in."

"So do you want to go to Diagon Alley this coming weekend?"

"What? Like…on a date?" Rose felt like she was going to fall off the broom.

"Er…I mean, if you want it to be a date…I mean, there are obviously going to be practical reasons, too. Like getting school stuff."

"Right. Right. Of course. Yeah. School stuff." Rose loosened her grip on Greg. "I do need school stuff."

The broom lurched forward and she sidled up against him again. Greg grinned slightly and continued cleaning the gutters.


	59. Chapter 59

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Rose stared into her closet.

What was she supposed to wear?

Gah. What a girly thought. She scratched the back of her head. She had never debated what she should wear. This was terrible. Why was an annual trip to Diagon Alley with Greg giving her the butteflies?

Because he had asked her out.

She shook her head. No. He hadn't asked her out. He said if she wanted it to be a date, it could be. Not that it was. Did she want it to be a date?

"Rose?" Hugo asked from the hallway.

"What?" She opened the door. He stood there in his boxers.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out what to wear."

"What?" He nearly dropped his orange juice.

"I don't know what I want to wear."

"Why? You're just going to Diagon Alley with the guys."

"Fred and James are working."

"So it's you, Frank, and Greg?"

"Frank's working."

"So it's…you…and Greg?" He knitted his eyebrows together. "I'm going with you."

"No you aren't!"

"Yes I am!" He went to his room.

"Hugo!" She chased after him, pulling the strap of her tank top. "You are not going to ruin this for me!"

He poked his head out of the door. "What do you mean? _Ruin this_? I'm helping you. You aren't ready for another relationship." He shut his door.

"Hugo!" She pounded on his door.

"What's going on out here?" her mum asked, coming out of her study, ink smudged on her face.

"Hugo insists on encroaching…"

"I'm not encroaching!" Hugo said, his voice muffled by the door. "I have to go to Diagon Alley, too."

"You can go with Al, damn it!"

"Rose, who are you going with?" Her mum pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Greg."

"Who?"

"Greg, the kid who cleaned the gutters the other day?"

"He's not a _kid._ He's a guy. A full grown man," Hugo argued. "He's training to be a _beater._ Do you remember what happened last…?"

"Hey, you _know_ Greg!" Rose shouted, banging on the door.

"Exactly!"

"So you're going on a date?" her mum asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

"No, it's not a _date_, per say…"

"Then I don't see the problem with Hugo going."

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"Why would I be kidding? Hugo, what do you need for your school stuff?"

"Merlin! You are _both_ impossible!" She went into her room and just threw on a pair of loose shorts and Wood's Harpies jersey. Guess it _wasn't_ a date, after all.

3

"This is awkward," Greg muttered, watching Hugo disappear into Flourish and Blotts.

"Sorry," Rose said, scratching the back of her head. She glanced at him. He had actually tried to look nice, almost like he was going to go golfing soon. He couldn't really pull it off very well, though.

"Are we allowed to ditch our little chaperone?" he whispered in her ear.

"I think that'd be a very bad idea."

"Hang on. Keep an eye on him. I'll go get James and Fred."

"Greg…"

"I'll be right back." He jogged down Diagon Alley in the direction of the joke shop. Rose sighed and glanced at her list of books. She might as well get ahead start…

3

"They're following us," Greg said, smiling at Rose, carrying both of their books.

"Who?"

"Um... Fred, James, and Hugo. Maybe even Frank. I'm not really sure."

"Ugh. Why are they following us?"

"Why do you think? Hugo probably told them we were on a date."

They turned down a side street to the ice cream shop.

"Well…we are, aren't we?"

"I suppose so, now that we've gotten rid of Hugo."

"Well…evidently that's relative."

"Of course it is." Greg glanced at her. "Do you want some ice cream?"

"I'm not really hungry right now."

"Off to the arithmancy shop, then."

"Are you in NEWT level potions?" Rose asked, trying to peer over his shoulder at his class schedule.

"Yeah." He glanced at hers. "It's a different time, though. A different level, too."

"Why are you taking divination?"

His cheeks tinged with red. "Well…I…sort of find it interesting."

"Really?"

"I know, I know, Ravenclaws aren't supposed to be superstitious. But Gryffindors aren't supposed to be afraid of flying."

"That's not fair." Rose pushed open the door to the arithmancy shop.

"Besides, I want to get as many NEWTs as I can to leave options open."

"You've been guaranteed a spot working along side Green for the Arrows…"

"Assuming I don't get injured. Anyway, I don't want to completely shut the door on advocacy work, and if I had more NEWTs, then I'd be taken seriously."

"What do you want to see happen?" Rose asked, starting to measure out a large jar of batwings.

"Um…magical creature equality is my first agenda," he said, picking out a new set of scales. "There are just way too many aspects of the law that still favor pureblood supremacy over creatures. They're staring at us from the window." Greg smiled at Rose. "Do you want to give them a heart attack?"

"Are you sure they're there?" Rose moved to look, but Greg grabbed her wrist gently.

"Don't look at them. James is under the invisibility cloak. It'll do no good." He laced his fingers through Roses, the calluses on his hands tingling her skin. "This alone should heat their blood a little." He smiled warmly and kissed the back of her hand.

Rose struggled to swallow. "Well, it certainly warmed _my _blood a little."

Greg chuckled, hearing the way James slammed Hugo's face against the window as he stared, aghast.

"I'm glad you find this so amusing."

"It's either that or I go outside and kill them."

"Well, I think we'd all appreciate the latter."

"Are you hungry now?" He put his substantial box of ingredients on the counter.

"A bit."


	60. Chapter 60

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"They're here," Rose said, seeing Hugo's red hair out of the corner of their eyes.

"Huh. You're right. They tried to disguise themselves, it seems."

"I have to say, I like James's glasses."

"Do you want to try and slip them?"

"No. What're they going to do?"

"That's a good point. They can't exactly make seen in front of everyone."

"Well…they _can._"

Hannah put their plates of fish and chips in front of them.

"Thanks," Rose said. "You guys have the best fish."

"It's Neville's gran's recipe, believe it or not. Best batter I've ever tasted. I almost want to try it on other things, but I have a feeling Neville won't take too kind to it," Hannah said, her rosy cheeks dimpling with her smile.

"Oh, I doubt it," Greg said, laughing. "He'll eat anything."

"Or if he won't, Frank will," Rose added.

Hannah laughed, nodding in agreement. "Can I get you two lovebirds anything else?"

Both of them stared at her, blushing bright red.

"Oh! Sorry, I just thought…you two were…you seem so…and I…"

"No," Greg said, quickly shaking off his embarrassment. "We are. First date." He grinned, glancing sidelong at Rose. She grinned back, trying not to smile too broadly.

"Oh, how cute!" Hannah grinned back. "I thought you two had started dating a while ago…"

"Oh, no." Greg shook his head adamantly.

"I'll get you two some more butterbeers. James! Stop playing with the candle!" She shouted to the three boys in the corner.

Rose glanced over her shoulder and waved. The three of them took off their disguises sheepishly and resumed their watch.

"They're impossible," Rose muttered, trying some of the fish.

"Oh, wow, this fish _is_ amazing."

"I'm glad you like it," Hannah said, dropping off the butterbeers before returning to the kitchens.

"So…have you given any thought to the Ravenclaw quidditch team?"

"Yep."

"And…?"

"Like I would divulge my secrets to a Gryffindor…"

"Alright, let me guess."

"Ok, go right ahead."

"You and Whalan on beater."

He twitched his eyebrow. "Whalan? Why not Keller?"

"Keller's not committed. This is your seventh year. You're going to want to win."

"Ok. Who's my keeper."

"Really? Is that even a question? Hugo."

"Why not…ok, you got me there. He's the only prospect. Seeker?"

"You're going to hate me for this." She took some more fish.

"Who?"

"That new kid, the second year…what's his name? Short kid, blonde hair, blue eyes…no? Um…I think his name is like…Brian?"

"Oh, yeah. Brendan."

"Right, him. But you won't go with him. He'll be your second. You'll use Al. He has more experience."

"You don't think that's wise?"

"Al's… not going to be where he was a year ago. He's got the fake leg, now, remember?"

"That shouldn't…"

"But it's Al. He's going to be extremely self-conscious in the air. I've seen him fly. He has reservations, now. You need someone not afraid to dive into the crowd for the snitch. Who better than a head-strong thirteen year old?"

"Ok. I see what you're saying, but I have to play Al if Al wants to play. If he doesn't want to, I'll consider Brendan."

"Al will."

"I can't deny seniority."

"You will for your chasers."

Greg blushed.

"Clearwater has to go. So does Cam. You're going to start fresh with Whalan as beater. Ryan's going to be pulled from second. He matured a lot last year, and from what I hear being thrown around, he's been training. He's going to be your point man. Quinn the girl is going to be your two spot, and Lorie is going to be the third."

"Lorie? Really? She's never started in all her seven years."

"It's your seventh year. It's hers to. She's an awesome defensive power. It's what you'd be getting rid of with Cam and Clearwater. With Lorie on defense and Hugo as Keeper, you're golden. Absolutely covered when it comes to defense."

"So I'm supposed to overload offense?"

"You aren't overloading anything." Rose grinned, finishing off her fish. "You just have to compensate for the fact that Al isn't going to be in his prime."

Greg narrowed his gaze and attacked his fish for a few minutes, effectively devouring it. He looked back up at her, grinning at him and swirling butterbeer in her mouth.

"You're a genius," he said and swallowed. "An absolute genius."

"And that's a surprise?"

Greg smiled and finished his chips. "Are you going to finish those?" He motioned to Rose's plate.

"Here." She slid them onto his empty plate. "Do you have a training regime in place to keep yourself in shape?"

"I've been talking to Rachel. She's taking an off year. So even if I backslide a little, she probably will, too."

"But she won't."

"How do you figure?" He sipped his butterbeer. "She's human…"

"Inhuman, is more like it."

"First of all, no. Second of all, she's, like, thirty five."

"And…?"

"When you get older, it's more difficult to…"

"First of all: no." Rose shook her head, nearly laughing at him. "Second of all, she's arguably the best beater in the league. She's not going to let herself go. I'd be willing to bet Katie won't _let_ her let herself go. She wants to be in the league for life, she will be in the league for life."

"Whatever." He finished his butterbeer and sat back, staring at her. "But you're right. And I don't know. I have a consult with the Arrow's trainer before I go back. I think he wants to work on my…agility and possibly my core."

"You already have a six-pack," Rose said dismissively.

"And how do you know that?" he leaned forward and grinned at her.

She blushed. "Well, when you're grasping onto something for your life, it's hard not to notice those sorts of things…"

"Ah…right." He matched her blush and sat back.

They stared at each other, grins teasing each others lips until both started laughing at the same time, a warmth feeding the fire in the pit of Rose's stomach.

"Here, you two," Hannah said, putting two Sundays in front of them. "It's on me." She winked and walked off.

"Oh, merlin," Rose muttered, poking the ice cream with her fork. "I don't know if I can eat this…"

"Eh, eat what you can. I'll finish it for you, if you can't." Greg dove into his dish. "You know, you should wear more form-fitting clothes." He swallowed a spoonful of ice cream.

Rose stared at him, wondering how she should feel about this revelation. She heard Hugo spit butterbeer all over the table.

"What do you mean?" she asked, putting down her spoon. "You don't like my clothes?"

"No! No, not at all. I mean, if you like them, then they're fine by me. You look amazing in anything."

"That's a cop-out if I ever heard it," Rose muttered, poking her ice cream.

"No, hey, stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Being so…I don't know…touchy…"

"Stop being so touchy?"

"Alright…hang on a second. All I meant was that you can pull off a whole lot more than the baggy clothes you wear all the time."

"Really? Like what?" She leaned forward, temporarily ignoring the icecream.

"Pick something."

"Bikini."

He just grinned.

"Merlin, you're sick."

"Should have suggested something a bit less revealing, then."

"A skirt."

"Seen it. Although, you usually wear the school pants. I have to say, though, the school pants look terrible on anyone. But I admit their functionality. In all honesty, though, stick to the skirt." He took some ice cream. "I doubt you own any other skirts, though." He swallowed. "It's a shame, really. You have fantastic legs."

Rose felt the Weasley blush rampage across her face.

"I have short legs," she muttered, tucking her hand behind her neck.

"No. You have _fantastic_ legs." He shook his head and ate more ice cream. "And breasts."

He stopped eating and blushed red, deeper than even Rose. They stared at each other, neither one really sure of what to say. James had choked on some butterbeer, his face matching theirs, and Hugo looked thoroughly confused.

"I mean…" Greg cleared his throat. "You have a terrific clavicle."

"What?"

"Your clavicle," he said. "It's adorable."

"My clavicle?"

"Yes. You could definitely pull off a shirt that showed off your clavicle."

"Which will also show off my…"

"Not always." He cleared his throat again and took the cherry off the top of her sundae.

"I was going to eat that." She took a spoonful of his nuts.

"Well, I did." He put the stem on the table in front of him. "What're you going to do about it?"

She stuck the spoon with nuts clinging to the dab of ice cream into her mouth.

"That's actually pretty good." She grabbed another bit from his bowl.

"Here, just switch, if you're going to be insistent on eating _my_ ice cream."

"Absolutely not."

"Fine." He reached across the table and took a bit of hers.

"Hey, watch out for the candle." She moved it more to the middle of the table.

He stuck out his tongue and took another big spoonful from her fastly melting bowl. He put it up to her face.

"What're you…?"

And smooshed it against her cheek.

"Sorry," he said, grinning. "I missed."

"Like hell, you missed." She grabbed some of his and wiped it on his cheek. He returned the gesture again. She stood up, hoping for a longer reach and started to put some on his upper lip.

"Don't move," she said, biting her lower lip in concentration.

"What're you doing? I'm gonna break out if you…"

"I'm giving you a goatee…"

"I think it's melting." He tried not to move his face, his tongue darting out and licking his upper lip. "And it's gonna be your fault when I wake up with a zit infestation in the morning."

"I could say the same about you." She gave him some side burns. "Have you even started shaving yet?"

"Uh…not really?"

"Not really?"

"No. God, that's cold!" He grabbed the spoon and stuck it to her chin. The spoon clattered to the floor.

"What're you two…?" Hannah rolled her eyes when both of them turned to look at her. "You'd think once you took your OWL's, you'd mature a bit…" She went back to cleaning.

"This was terrible of us," Greg said, chuckling as he took a napkin to Rose's face. Rose took the napkin from him and continued the job, handing him another.

"It's your fault."

"Maybe."

"I'm just going to go wash up," Rose said, stepping away from the table. "I hate feeling sticky."

"Another reason why you'll never be able to play quidditch." Greg sighed. "I think I'll join you."

"In the girl's room?" Rose slipped down the short hallway and stepped into the bathroom. Sure enough, Greg followed her.

"Well…no one else is here," he said in response to her inquisitive look. "And I don't want to get jumped by James and Fred for mentioning your…um…_clavicle_."

Rose looked up from the sink, water dripping off her chin, and stared at him in the mirror. He tilted his head and tried to run water down the side of his face. Rose couldn't help but laugh at him, grabbing a towel and drying her face.

"Here, just sit," she said, pushing him back on the sink counter.

"I'm gonna break out from this."

"Stop being such a baby. It's not the end of the world." She ran a cloth under hot water and started to dab his face, slowly working her way towards his chin. "Huh…you do have some hairs." She rubbed the small patch on his cheek with her finger.

"Really? Where?" He jumped down and leaned across the sink, his face nearly plastered against the mirror. "Now I have an excuse to shave…." He pulled at the hairs, grimacing as they pulled with his skin. "Sweet!"

"Sit down so I can finish cleaning you up like a toddler." Rose crossed her arms.

"Hey, it's not my fault _you_ decided to give me an ice cream mustache."

"Actually, it is."

"Well, let's not argue over the _details_."

Rose shook her head, grinning, and dabbed his face, trying not to get distracted by the way he stared at her, his blue eyes cutting through her exterior and piercing her heart.

"Why are you looking at me?" she asked, her voice unusually small.

"I'm…admiring you." His voice was equally small.

She looked at his eyes and he held her there, silently observing her. Her heart pounded against her chest. He leaned in, slowly, and went to kiss her. She closed her eyes, anticipating…

And then their noses bumped together. Greg sat up immediately and Rose took a step back.

"Sorry," Greg said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and hopped off the counter, splashing his face.

"Stop," she said, turning off the water. "You're just making more of a mess."

"Err…" He looked around, at the puddle on the floor and the water dripping down the front of his shirt. "Right."

"You just have a little more…right…" She had to stretch slightly to reach his ear. "There." She wiped it with the cloth.

"Thanks," he said, blushing red.

"No problem." She rinsed the cloth and hung it on the rack.

"I really am sorry about that." He scratched the back of his head, staring at the ground. "I've never…really kissed anyone before…"

"Really, it's fine, Greg." She sighed, a bit of disappointment at the thought of a lost moment. Although if he really didn't have a clue as to what she was doing…

"Should we…um…go?"

"Yeah. Fred and James'll start to get suspicious…"

They stared at each other for a few seconds, each wondering who would go first.

Greg made the first move and held the door for Rose. Shaking her head, Rose went first, trying not to laugh. Both were aware of James and Fred and Hugo staring at them - at Greg's wet shirt in particular.

They resumed their seats and both of them sighed.

"So should we make this an official 'date'?" Greg asked, one hand lodged awkwardly in his pocket.

"I think you already attempted to do that," Rose said, trying not to laugh at the way he squirmed.

"Well…tried being the important part."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. As far as I'm concerned even _attempting_ makes it a date."

"You think?"

"I don't see why not."

"Ok, then." He stood up and walked over the bar.

"What're you doing?" She asked.

He pulled out his muggle wallet, stuffed with awkward wizarding coins. She shook her head and wondered why he carried that around. Anyone with any inkling of common sense knew that muggle wallets were far more useful for bits of paper than solid coins.

"Do we have to make any other stops?" he asked, picking up both of their packages.

"Um…not that I know of."

"Anywhere you _want_ to go?"

"Well…"

"Well?"

"No, that's ok."

"Come on, Rose, where do you want to go?"

She grinned and stood up, pushing in both chairs.

"Well," she said, leading the way out of the Three Broomsticks. "No. I can't."

"Can't what?"

"I…enjoy looking at the owls," she said.

"Oh. Just looking?"

"Yes."

"You don't need an owl?"

"I don't want an owl."

"No?"

"Too much responsibility. Hugo's owl is enough."

"Ok, fair enough."

"Hang on." She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him low, tilted her head slightly and kissed him. He didn't move, staring at her like a deer in headlights. "That, Greg, is how you kiss. Just so you know."

She opened the door for him. His face was red, but he still hadn't moved, this time his eyes on Fred and James, both of them standing up and walking towards them.

"Ok, Greg, now is when we make our escape," Rose said, grabbing his arm and practically dragging him away from her cousins and brother.


	61. Chapter 61

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"They're right behind us," Greg said.

"Yes we are," Fred said, his voice low.

"And we aren't going to leave," James said.

"Look, I appreciate your concern," Rose said, staring at one of the barn owls. "But we're both adults."

"I don't want to see you hurt," Hugo said.

Rose slowly lowered her gaze to the ground, the words somehow cutting through her defenses.

"I don't want to see her hurt either," Greg said, his voice low.

Rose looked up and saw Hugo and Greg staring at each other, both of them with set jaws and determined eyes. Fred and James exchanged a quick glance and silently stayed out of it.

"Really?" Hugo cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I promise."

Greg offered his hand, his hand shaking slightly. He swallowed, waiting for Hugo to take his hand. Hugo stared at him for a little longer, the younger teen not yet giving up his position.

"Look…" Greg glanced briefly at Rose before taking Hugo by the shoulder and pulling him off to the corner. Rose could still hear what they said. "I saw what Chris did to her…to you…to everyone around her...and I hated every second of it. I never ever want to see her like that again. Ok?"

Hugo didn't look convinced.

"You know me, Hugo. You know me a whole lot better than you knew Chris. Trust me. Please." He offered his hand again.

Hugo stared at him, slipping his narrow hand into Greg's big one. "I swear on my father's grave that if you ever make her cry, I'll hunt you down and kill you."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Neither of them let go of the other's hand.

"You know, I can get some champagne if you two want to make this official," James said, throwing his arms over Hugo.

"Yeah, I never knew you two felt that way about each other," Fred said. "I think that's more contact than Greg and Rose had all day!"

Rose flushed red.

"Well, it's not my fault I was afraid of getting jumped," Greg said, crossing his arms.

"We wouldn't jump you," Fred said.

"Yeah, we approve of you," James said.

"Really?"

"No, idiot." James drew his hand back and punched his shoulder. "That's for following her into the bathroom."

Hugo drew back his punch and hit him in the chest. "And that's for talking about her…about her…um…" he lowered his voice to whisper, his face red. "Breasts."

And Fred laid one into him. "And that's for trying to kiss her."

"And failing," James added.

Now it was Greg's turn to flush red.

"Well…sorry…"

"And this is for kissing him," Hugo said, putting his sister into a headlock and giving her a noogie.

"Hey! Get off!" She said, trying to get away. He just held her tighter.

"Alright, alright," Greg said, putting Hugo swiftly into a hold of his own. "Let her go." Hugo slipped his arms off his sister and Greg released him. "Are you two ready to go home, now?"

"We'll take him home," Fred said, grabbing Hugo by the arm. "You two can…I don't know…go get some chocolate frogs or something."

"On you?" Rose asked, holding out her hand for some galleons.

"Ugh. Fine." Fred dished out three gold coins and then disapparated with Hugo and James.

"Did he really just give you three galleons for candy?"

"Looks like it. How many licorice snaps do you think we can buy with these?"

"Dunno. Wanna find out?"

3

Rose stared at herself in the mirror on the back of her door, pulling at the collar of her shirt. A terrific clavicle? She didn't see it. And her legs still looked short. She stepped back and pulled her shorts up a bit. Yeah. They were definitely still short. Merlin, her ass looked big. Damn it. She pulled her shorts down. Why was she thinking like this? It was completely irrational. What did it matter if her ass looked big?

She grabbed a licorice snap out of the bag on her dresser.

Her breasts were pretty good, though. She tilted her head and looked in the mirror.

Gah. Why was she thinking like this? She shook her head and opened her door, leaving her room and going to the kitchen. A glass of water in hand, she sat down at the table, sliding the _Prophet _near her. It looked like Uncle Harry had busted a cell of homegrown dark wizards. And…

She flipped to page B26. Hermione Weasley's article on the projected future of centaur rights. What the hell? She started reading. The forbidden forest - Centaur invasion or ministry cession? She got to the bottom of the article, convinced that the ministry should not secede the forest to the centaurs and stared at the hollow-cheeked picture of her mum at the bottom of the page. She looked even worse in print than she did in real life. Her heart tightened slightly.

"So Hugo tells me you and Greg are now involved," her mum said, sliding into the kitchen.

"Uh…yeah." She scratched the back of her head, flicking the newspaper back into a folded position.

"Hugo seems to trust him."

"Yeah." Rose looked at a picture of Uncle Harry, sweat making his hair stick to his head, giving a press conference for the ministry after coming back from a mission.

"Do you trust him?"

"Everyone trusts him."

Her mum sighed and looked away. Rose flipped the paper open again, glancing at the article.

"Did you mean it when you wrote that the ministry was being too soft on Centaur boundary reform?" Rose asked, pinpointing the paragraph in question.

Her mum looked at her, almost confused, and nodded. "Yes," she said. "I did."

"Hmm."

"Why?"

"It just seems…like it's our fault that they're losing ground. Between the increased encroachment of Muggles on the magical forests and the increased wizarding developments on the edge of Hogsmeade…shouldn't it be alright if we let their boundaries become fuzzy?"

"You see, what you're doing right now is not treating them like sentient beings," her mum said. "It's the same thing the ministry is doing. They think they're doing a good thing by 'permitting' a fluidity in the boundaries. Like they're allowing it. But centaurs can think for themselves. They don't see the encroachment of their land as an inevitable product of progress. They see it as a personal attack on their species."

"But it isn't…"

"From our perspective. Because we don't consider their lands not ours. See the difference? It's like the old muggle colonies, you know? Eventually, the centaurs are going to rise up against the ministry. And then what?" She shook her head. "No. We need to re-write the boundaries and then stick to them, on both sides. Keep the muggles away, keep the wizards in their area. Treat them like their own government and country within ours. It's the only way we can ever get peace. The centaurs rail against our government, unlike the goblins who have assimilated quite nicely." She shrugged and sat back. "Ultimately, the ministry being soft is sending the wrong message to the centaurs and perpetuating a less-than-sentient image of centaurs on the magical world. It's quite frustrating."

Rose fingered the edge of the page. "Does this…does this mean you're going to go back to the ministry?" She found her voice oddly small, quiet between the two of them.

"No," her mum said, her voice strained. "I…I have some other projects right now…"

"Like reading through all those journals?" Rose was surprised at the amount of bitterness in her tone.

"No…yes…but no." Her mum shook her head. "I'm…" She sighed. "I'm writing…about the war."

Rose didn't know what to say about that.

"It's…more difficult than I thought it would be." Tears glistened in her eyes. "Ginny's…Ginny's writing a companion volume…and…" She closed her eyes. "And I'm working on preserving some of your father's journals."

"Ok," Rose said, partially satisfied; at least she knew her mum was keeping busy… "Hey, is it true that you never took your NEWTs?"

"Where did you hear that?" her mum asked, her tone taking on a full-bodied aggression that made her grin.

"Around," Rose said, leaning back in her chair.

"Well, regardless of what you heard, you are most definitely taking your NEWTs."

"Of course I'm taking my NEWTs. That wasn't my question." Rose leaned forward, grinning.

"No. I didn't take my NEWTs." Her mum leaned back and crossed her arms. "Why?"

"For one of the witched credited with saving the world, I would've thought you'd seek out _some _source of tangible accreditation to your intelligence."

Her mum blushed. "Well…let me rephrase. I didn't take my NEWTs in the…uh…traditional manner."

"So you did take your NEWTs."

"Technically, although they don't count because it was a few years late."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…it bothered me. That I hadn't taken my NEWTs. I hadn't finished my schooling and if I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it all the way. So one day, your father just turned to me and said, 'damn it, woman, just go take the NEWTs, already.' He wasn't really serious about it. He was really just preoccupied with something on the television or something. But I just went and took them anyway." She shrugged. "It's all his fault." She grinned slightly. "Besides, what kind of a message would it send if every one of the Golden Trio failed to take their NEWTs?"

Rose snorted and shook her head.

"Now go get dressed. We were supposed to be at Uncle Percy's half an hour ago."


	62. Chapter 62

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"You don't look too good," Greg said, sitting next to Rose only in his swimming trunks.

Rose shrugged.

"What's wrong?" He stared at her, waiting.

"I…I don't know." She wrapped her arms around herself. Greg draped his arm across her shoulders. She glanced at him, his skin still wet and cool from the pool. "You're getting my tee-shirt wet."

"Serves you right," he said. "You haven't gone in the water yet."

"I don't really want to."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know a lot today, huh?"

She just glanced at him.

"Well, what do you know?"

"I know that my mum's a wack job."

"I think we already knew that."

"She took the NEWTs even though she didn't have to."

Greg glanced at her, a bit suspicious. "And you wouldn't?"

"Shut up," she said, hitting him slightly. "You're a Ravenclaw." She grinned despite her low mood.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Hugo wouldn't take them, though."

"Yeah, cause he's a bit lazy, don't you think?"

"Eh, just a bit. He seems to be toning up, though. What is he doing?"

"I have no clue. He sort of…disappears for days at a time."

"Disappears? I doubt he disappears."

"Ok, goes to the Burrow. What they do there, nobody knows. Probably trains with Al and Lily."

"Yeah, Al's walking really well. I was getting worried about his snitching skills."

"Did you get taller?" She looked at him.

"Uh… maybe?"

"Stand up."

"Rose…" He leaned back against the siding of Uncle Percy's house. "I just got comfortable…" The grin playing at the tips of his lips gave away his teasing.

"Come on. I think you grew a few inches in the past few weeks."

"Wouldn't surprise me." He rolled his shoulders. "Green thought so, too."

"So are you going to stand up?"

"Eh."

She nudged him again.

"No, I'm not, Rose." He closed his eyes and leaned against her, pretending to sleep.

"You're heavy," she muttered, trying to push him off unsuccessfully.

"That's what you get for dating a jacked beater." He wrapped his arms around her. "You make a good pillow."

"Alright, you gotta sit up." She shifted uncomfortably. "It's too hot for this…"

"Yeah. I guess you're right." He sat up and rolled his shoulders. "Green ran a ridiculous practice yesterday. I want to kill her. She's going to send me back to Hogwarts crippled."

"Did you two work out a regime for the coming year?"

"Lots of running, lots of beating, lots of weight lifting. I don't even know if Hogwarts has weights."

"Just use some first years."

He laughed. "I'm sure they'd love that. C'mon guys, I just gotta do ten more…goodness, Phil, did you put on weight? I don't think they'd like it very much."

"Just don't use the girls. The rest should be fine."

"Yeah. Until Flitwick gets wind of it…"

"Maybe he would volunteer." She looked at his aghast expression.

"I wouldn't want to break him. He's older than Professor Binns…"

Rose laughed, imagining the little old professor crumbling in Greg's grasp.

"I'm serious!" He crossed his arms.

"I know…that's what…that's what makes it so funny…" She struggled to get her giggling under control.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Greg sighed. "Are you sure you don't want to go swimming."

"I didn't bring a bathing suit."

"Is that an excuse or a viable reason?"

"Does it matter?" She watched as Greg stood up.

"Well…yeah." He rolled his shoulders, stretching his arms, his muscles lit by the sun making Rose's heart skip a beat.

"And why is that?" She crossed her knees and smirked.

"Because if it's just a reason, I'll leave you alone." He crossed his arms and smirked.

"Really?" She stood up. "And if it's an excuse?"

"Well…" He scooped her in his arms easily, grinning like a fool. "I'll have to throw you in the pool."

"What? No!" She started squirming, trying to get away as he carried her easily over to the edge of the inground pool. "Put me down! Greg! Damn it, put me down!"

He just laughed.

"Greg!"

James, Fred, and Hugo watched, all three of them laughing as she shrieked like a little girl, something that didn't happen often.

"Alright, alright," Greg said, not putting him down. "I won't throw you in the pool."

"Then put me down."

"Well, I'm not going to do that, either."

"Then what are you going to do? Greg, put me down!"

Grinning, Greg jumped in the pool, still holding onto the screaming Rose.

"Damn it!" She held onto him, spitting out water.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Greg asked, holding her.

"You didn't even let me take my shoes off," she said, contorting to pluck off her sneakers and socks and throw them to the dry land.

He chuckled. "I just brought you into a pool and all you can think about is how you're shoes are going to get wet?"

"Well…yeah."

"Not about if you're going to drown or if I'm going to be able to see your bra through your shirt?"

"You won't. I'm wearing an undershirt."

"Did you bring a change of clothes?"

"No. How deep is this?"

"Five feet."

She grunted. At five two, it wasn't exactly going to be easy for her to touch bottom.

"How well can you swim?" Greg asked, brushing a piece of hair off her cheek.

"Well enough," she said, probably exaggerating more than was necessary.

"Not at all," James said, floating by Greg. "Can't even do a good stroke."

"Well that's a pity," Greg said, sighing whimsically. "And here I was hoping we could swim across the English Channel together."

"Good one," Fred said. "Good luck getting Rose to do anything remotely athletic."

"It's not my fault I'm not athletically inclined." Rose glared at Fred.

"No one's saying it is," Greg said softly, his hand gently pulling down her shirt. She blushed, realizing the back was floating in the water.

"Greg!" Uncle Harry snapped from the grill. Greg looked at him, saw the stern look, and slowly let go of Rose.

Rose didn't let go of him.

"Rose, I think we shouldn't be so close," he said.

"What? Why?"

Greg nodded towards Harry, watching expectantly. She rolled her eyes and reluctantly started to doggy paddle towards the edge.

"See? Can't swim," Fred said.

"Shut up, you," she said, getting a mouthful of water. She hauled herself onto the edge of the pool. "I should put on my bathing suit, anyway."

Fred snorted and grabbed Roxy's leg as she swam by. Rose tentatively made her way through Uncle Percy's pristine house, the AC blowing cool air on her wet skin making her shiver a bit. She slipped into the bathroom, a trail of water behind her, and quickly stripped and put on her bathing suit.

She looked at herself in the mirror, her lower lip firmly between her teeth, her heart pounding against her chest. Damn it. She was doing it again. She adjusted her straps and pulled at the fabric near her behind. It didn't really help. Her ass still looked big. She clenched her jaw.

"Hurry up," Aunt Ginny said, knocking on the door. "How long does it take you to change, Rose?"

"Oh…um…I'm almost done." She grabbed her wet clothes and opened the door.

Aunt Ginny raised an eyebrow and grinned slightly.

"Don't worry," she said, biting back laughter. "That suit shows off your clavicle well."

"My… my clavicle?" Her grip tightened on her clothes. "What're…how'd you…?"

"Oh, Fred and James. They've been furious about it for weeks. Personally, I think it's adorable. Roxy and Lily are just too independent to be influenced by them, so they're looking elsewhere. You look fine, stop obsessing about your ass…er…_behind_..no, no, that's not…definitely ass. Stop obsessing about your ass. He probably likes it. Now, if you'lll excuse me…" She slipped by Rose into the bathroom.

Rose felt the door close behind her, a very uncomfortable feeling settling into her stomach. Clutching her clothes close to her body, she slipped back out onto the patio and hung her clothes on the line.

"Hey, ready to go swimming now?" Greg asked from behind her. She spun around quickly, surprised at how close he was.

"Um…maybe in a little bit." She clasped her hands behind her.

"I like that color. It looks good on you."

"Um…thanks…I've had it for a while."

"I suppose there's a reason you're in Gryffindor, then." He grinned, his eyes staying on her face and not straying to her red suit or any other part of her body.

"Yeah." She shifted slightly.

"I think the food's done, are you hungry?" He gazed over at Uncle Percy obsessing over the placement of the burgers on the tray.

"Uh…yeah, a bit."

"Lead the way."

"No, you can go first."

"I insist."

"Chivalry is dead, you know."

"Doesn't have to be."

They stared at each other, Rose nervously biting her lip, Greg grinning.

"Go," Greg pushed, motioning with his hand.

She shook her head. "You go first."

"What's going on with you? First, you say you don't have a bathing suit, now you're acting all weird…"

"You think I'm weird?" Her face burned with embarrassment.

"No…It's just…never mind." He sighed and scratched the back of his head, his own cheeks starting to redden. "How about we go together?" He offered his hand.

"Ok." She took it, hoping he wouldn't catch a glance at her worser side.

"Did I…do or say something?"Greg sat down in a chair next to Rose, both of them with food.

"What do you mean?"

"To make you so…self-conscious…did I say or do something?" He bit into his hamburger, catsup oozing out of the bun.

"Uh…no." She ate a chip.

"Then did something happen? You weren't ever like this as far as I can remember."

"Like what?"

"I don't know…like you wore jeans today."

"So? Maybe I had to do laundry."

"You did laundry yesterday."

"How do you know that?"

"I asked Hugo."

"So?"

"So…I'm wondering if the fact that I mentioned I found your legs very nice influenced that decision. You seemed uneasy about it." He took another bite of hamburger. "I mean, I really do like them. They look absolutely amazing right now. You tan beautifully."

"I've got lines all over the place…"

"See? You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Pointing out the bad."

"I do have tanlines, though."

"And they're barely visible." He took a swig of coke. "I mean, I find everything about you unbelievably attractive."

"Even my ass?" she muttered through hamburger.

"Rose, you have the most feminine ass in the world." Greg looked at her, her mouth slightly open.

"What was that?" Uncle Bill asked, pausing as he passed by.

Greg immediately started playing with his ear and staring at the ground. "Wrists…she has the most feminine wrists…" He cleared his throat, his face red from either the sun or again being caught complimenting something rather personal.

"Yeah. Wrists," Uncle Bill said. "I'm watching you, and I have more experience with Curses than even Harry. You'd better keep that in mind, boy." He continued on his way.

"You think I have a feminine ass?"

"Stop bringing it up," Greg muttered. "You're going to get me in trouble. And yes, I do. Although, like I said, the school pants can make anything lackluster, but even in the school pants…" He swallowed. "You look great in anything. Your personality just…puts a lot of guys off."

"My personality?" her voice was louder than she intended.

"You're aggressive. Some guys don't like that."

"You think I'm aggressive?"

"In a good way."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, the irritation slowly leaking out of Rose and the ease settling into Greg. They both started laughing.

"Man, one of these days one of your family members is going to hear something they shouldn't and behead me." He shook his head with an anxious sigh. "I'm a dead man."

"Eh, we'll just meet up in the Hufflepuff common room to partake in any exploits we don't want the rest of the family to know about."

Greg stared at his plate, his entire body seeming to go red. The interpretation possibilities fully sinking in. Her face matched his.

"Rose, Greg, you two should put on some more sunblock," Aunt Audrey said. "You're looking a little red."

"Ok," Rose said, trying to make sound come out of her mouth. "We will in a bit."

"Yeah." Greg's voice was little more than a squeak.

"Um…sorry," Rose said softly. "I…wasn't thinking…I don't really want to…have any unorthodox exploits…yet…" She grimaced, hoping she managed to tell him she wasn't game for sex yet while still seeming open to it in the future.

"It's ok." Greg cleared his throat. "Let's just…um…not talk about the Hufflepuffs...for now…"

"For now…"

"Or ever, you know, whatever works for you, you know?" His words came out tumbling over each other, rushed and hurried and anxious.

"Yeah. Definitely." She wasn't sure what she was agreeing to.

Both of them bent back to their food.

"Harpies or Tornadoes?" he asked, not looking at her.

"Tornadoes," she replied, focused intently on her potato salad. "Definitely Tornadoes."


	63. Chapter 63

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Rose crossed her arms and stared at herself in the mirror. Skirts, huh? She tilted her head. She hiked her grey school uniform skit so it sat a good three inches above her knee. Cocking an eyebrow, she grimaced. Too much? Not enough? Any more and she would be flashing guys…and even this was a little more than she was used to. She let it fall again and started rolling the waistband. Two inches…two and a half…three? She stopped and let her hands fall at her side, her fingertips grazing the hem of the skirt.

Too short?

She spun around, the skirt twirling at her knees.

Maybe it wasn't too short. She crossed her legs and bent over, wondering how far it would slip up in the back. Ok, so she couldn't bend over like that. She rolled her shoulders back and looked again. Her legs looked longer.

She glanced at the heels in the corner, biting her lip. Should she even bother? No. she shouldn't. She took off the skirt and put it aside to be hemmed later. Turning to the stack of stuff on her desk that had to be packed, she groaned. Least favorite part of going back to school right there.

"Hugo!" She slipped out of her room, tying the string to her shorts. "Hugo, have you gotten the trunks down from the…"

She paused in the sitting room, Hugo staring at Grandma Granger, neither of them moving, Grandma Granger with her hand hovered over a Muggle chess board.

"Hugo…"

"Sssshhh!" He shooed her away with his hand.

"Have you gotten down the trunks?" She put her hands on her hips.

"Ahah! Beat that," Grandma Granger said, moving her bishop.

Hugo made a quick move and grinned.

"Shit." Grandma Granger put a hand to her head.

"What's going on?" her mum asked, coming down the hallway.

"Hugo won't give me the time of day."

"Eh, he's playing chess."

"Do you know if he's gotten down the trunks?"

"Have you heard him screaming and shouting that he dropped a trunk on his foot?"

"Well…no."

"Then I'd say not."

Rose rolled her eyes and slipped back down the hallway, grabbing the string hanging from the ceiling and pulling down the ladder to the attic.

"What are you doing?" her mum demanded.

"Getting my trunk." Rose poked her head into the attic amidst boxes upon boxes of stuff. "Where are they?" She looked down at her mum.

"The back left corner."

Rose tried to see around a stack of boxes, but couldn't. She tentatively stepped on the rickety wood floor and started to walk across, the dust in the air making her sneeze a few times. There were four trunks in the corner. Her and Hugo's were in the front. She pulled away Hugo's trunk, pushing it off to the side, and moved hers. She narrowed her eyes at the trunk.

One was her fathers. Bill's name had been scribbled out on the card and "Ron" written over it in a messy scribble. She touched it, opened it, and looked at the torn red cloth lining the trunk. She glanced behind the cloth. There was nothing hidden as far as she could tell. She struggled to get it clasped shut again, the old trunk's hinges stiff. Her mum's trunk was a rich mahogany, the brass clasps and hinges still appearing new. She opened her trunk. The gold lining was still perfectly in place, a pack of cigarettes tucked in the side pocket.

Rose grinned and picked it up and flipped open the top. Half full. She tucked it in her pocket and closed the trunk with ease. Grabbing one of the handles of her red painted trunk, she dragged it towards the door.

"What's taking you so long?" Her mum asked, taking her end of the trunk and slowly lowering to the ground.

"Nothing." Rose shrugged, feeling the cigarettes in her short pocket, and struggled to get the door shut.

3

Rose stepped out of the fireplace, faintly wondering if she had gone to the wrong house until she saw Cormack in the kitchen eating a sandwich.

"Rose?" he said, his voice slightly squeaking.

"Hey, Cormack. Is…uh…Mattie here?"

"Upstairs." He turned back to his sandwich, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Thanks." She climbed up the stairs and stood in Mattie's doorway. She was hovered over a desk, her hands in her hair, a quill dangling from her fingertips.

"Damn it," she muttered to herself. "The centaur line is too far north…it can't interfere with Hogwarts…I need a kilometer buffer…and even that's pushing it." She dipped her quill in her ink and started scribbling on a spare bit of parchment.

Rose shifted, making the floor squeak. Mattie looked over her shoulder and nearly jumped.

"Rose," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh…I…just wondering…"

"About?"

"What do you think of my…um…clothes?"

"Your what?"

"My clothes…what do you think of them?"

"What kind of a question is that?" She put down her quill and stood up, blue ink smudged on her cheek.

"I…was just wondering."

"Why?"

"Well… What are your opinions on skirts?"

"What do you mean?"

"Uh…"

"Rose, just sit down." Mattie ruffled her hair and motioned to her bed, the bedspread crumbled. Tentatively, Rose did as ordered, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt. "I have a feeling this is going to take a while is it?"

"No. I was just wondering what you thought about skirts."

"Rose does this have anything to do with boys."

"Boys?"

"Yes, boys."

"How do you figure?"

"Because you have that look in your eye." Mattie dragged a chair over and sat down on it, crossing her knees.

"What look in my eye?"

"You know the look." Mattie casually crossed her arms, looking at her critically. "Nervous, unsure, and completely in need of a good smack down."

"What?" Rose crossed her arms obstinately. "I don't believe it."

"I wasn't aware you had to."

Rose grimaced, wondering where she was going with this.

"So are you going to spill?"

"I don't know. What does it matter?"

"Well, you came here for something. At least, I'm assuming so. If not, then I have to get back to work drafting the possible options for the new centaur settlement."

Rose twisted her sneakers against her carpet. "Do you think I should wear more skirts?"

Mattie started laughing. "Where did you get _that_ notion for?" Mattie clutched her stomach, nearly spitting on the floor. "Skirts? What kind of a ridiculous question is that?"

"Never mind," Rose leaned back against the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Who are you trying to impress?"

"No one." Rose shifted slightly, tucking her hands behind her head. Mattie jumped onto the bed next to her.

"I spent seven years in Gryffindor. I've seen girls hook-up with the Hufflepuffs or rebel with a Slytherin. I've seen girls get so caught up in boys that they nearly fail out and then there are the girls who really fall for a guy." She poked Rose. "So which one are you?"

"I just asked a simple question." She glared at her.

"Yeah, well, the answer isn't so simple. I mean, it depends on who you're trying to impress, how far you should go, how much he likes skirts." Mattie narrowed her eyes. "Greg."

Rose opened her mouth to object, but found the words caught in her throat, beaten down by the blush burning her cheeks.

"Ha! Knew it." Mattie grinned broadly. "Well, the thing with Greg is that you probably don't have to change that much. He doesn't seem to be that shallow of a guy. And he's already shown interest in you, right?"

"Uh…yeah…"

"I wouldn't worry about it."

"But he said I should wear skirts more." She felt silly, ridiculous, and stupid for talking about this. She groaned and sat up. "Never mind. I'm just going to…"

"When?" Mattie was almost laughing.

"Uh…Diagon Alley."

"Were you alone?"

"Um…yeah?"

Mattie started laughing. "What else did he say?"

"That…he liked my…clavicle…I think I'm going to go." Rose stood up. Mattie grabbed her wrist and dragged her back down.

"Ok," she said, wiping tears from her eyes. "I take it you still wear your skirts like a quaker?"

"What?"

"Your skirts for school - are they still ridiculously long?"

"They're not ridiculously long…"

"Well, hem them up a bit, anyway. But don't go overboard with the skirt thing. Tease him a little. Like when you go to Hogsmeade together or something." Mattie shrugged. "That's what I'd do, anyway."

"Well…the only skirts I have are my school skirts…" Rose scratched the back of her head.

Mattie stared at her for a few seconds, her eyebrows knitted and mouth slightly open.

"Ok." Mattie stood up and went into her closet and pulled out a series of skirts. "Black, blue, red, and brown. I don't think you'd wear any others." She tossed them at her. "I think they'll fit ok. You might have do some seamstress work, but it's nothing you can't handle."

"How long are they?"

"Long enough."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, now get out of here. I have work to do."

"Since when do you do work?"

Mattie glared at her.

"Alright, alright. Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Rose clutched the skirts in her hands, faintly wondering if they really would fit.


	64. Chapter 64

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

3

"Trunk?" Her mum asked, leaning against Rose's doorjamb.

"Packed."

"Uniforms?"

"Hemmed."

"Hugo's pants?"

"Unhemmed."

"Do your shirts fit?"

"They're fine, mum."

"You're sure you have all your books?"

"Yep."

"Enough ink and parchment?"

"I hope so."

"Rose…"

"I do, ok? Geez. Take a breath, will you? I'm old enough to pack my trunk. If anything, you should be looking over Hugo's shoulder."

"He's still trying to find his books."

Rose rolled her eyes, sitting on her trunk in an effort to make it close all the way.

3

Greg grabbed her trunk before even saying hello.

"Hello to you, too," Rose said, walking next to him. "I can handle that, you know."

"What do you have in here? It's heavier than mine…"

"Excuse me if I have more needs than you."

"Well, I mean, I'd just figure that my bludger set would be heavier than whatever books you managed to shove in your trunk."

"Bludgers aren't _that_ heavy." He climbed onto the train without any problems, dragging the trunk to the compartment he had scouted out earlier, his trunk already fastened in place. "So how was the rest of your summer?" He sat down.

"Ok. Have you come up with a schedule yet?" She sat down across from him.

"Uh…I'm not really sure."

The compartment door slid open and Whalan came in, his Manchester United hat tilted on his head. He flopped down besides Greg.

"Ugh," he groaned. "I can't believe we're going back already.

Cam and Clearwater both slid into the compartment, Clearwater next to Rose, Cam next to Whalan.

"What are you guys doing here?" Greg demanded, the anger in his voice not lost on anyone.

"Uh…sitting with our captain," Whalan said.

"You were sitting here all by your lonesome and we thought we'd see what's up," Cam said, tousling his already messy hair.

"I'm not alone," he growled, his voice dangerously low.

"How much did you work out over the summer? You look beastly," Clearwater said, her voice pitched seductively.

Rose clenched her teeth. The door opened and Lorie walked in, a bag flung haphazardly over her shoulder.

"Hey, guys. I was wondering where you had all gone." She snapped her gum.

"So, Greg, I hear they're pairing you with Green," Whalan said, his voice cracking slightly. Puberty was starting to hit the fourth year hard.

Rose sat back in the seat, crossing her arms slightly and watching the exchange. Greg was visibly frustrated.

"So who's this?" Cam asked, nodding towards Rose.

"She's in Gryffindor," Clearwater said, brushing off the question. "Are they seriously putting you with Green?"

"Guys…"

"Come on, Greg. You can't keep us in the dark forever," Lorie said, pulling a book out of her bag. "I mean, sure, you could, but that wouldn't be conducive to team bonding."

"Since when have we had team bonding?" Greg's face was red, his hands balled on his knees. "And since when has team bonding begun before I've even announced the team?"

"Oh, come on, Greg," Cam said. "How can we not be on the team? Whalan, Clearwater, and I are the fastest chasers…"

"I'm not going with Chris's strategy," Greg said, his voice low.

Cam, Clearwater, and Whalan exchanged glances.

"We need more defense," he muttered.

"And your plan is…?" Lorie leaned forward, her hands clasped together.

"I'm moving Whalan to beater, taking Cam and Clearwater off the roster, putting Lorie on first with Quinn."

They all stared at him, open mouthed. Clearwater stood up, her face contorted, and slipped out of the compartment. Cam followed after her.

"You…you really want me to start?" Lorie asked, her voice catching in her throat.

"It's your seventh year. You've been on the team since second. You've put in enough hours, as far as I'm concerned." Greg looked at her, his gaze level.

"And…and you trust me enough to beat with you?" Whalan's voice cracked all over the place.

"Yep."

"I…I have to go," Lorie said, her cheeks red.

"So what's going on between you two?" Whalan asked, nodding towards Rose and Greg. "Are you finally seeing each other?"

Greg and Rose exchanged a glance.

"I'll go tell the team." Whalan stood up.

"Get back here." Greg grabbed his wrist and dragged him back. "You will do no such thing…"

"It's going to get around eventually. She goes through Ravenclaws like candy."

Greg's grip loosened on him just enough so he could slip away.

"Sorry about that," Greg said, slumping down in her seat.

"Rose!" Anna flung into the compartment and threw her arms around her. "Are you doing ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, there you are," Libby said, Tony right behind her. "Greg." They sat down across from Rose.

"I don't know where Diane is," Tony said, scratching her head. "I hear she hooked up with a Hufflepuff already. I have a feeling it's going to be a long year."

"For the love of Merlin, she hasn't even gotten off the train, yet!" Libby shook her head. "So how about you two? Shacked up yet?"

Rose and Greg stared at her, both of them open mouthed and red faced.

"Oh, it's no matter," she said, waving them off. "Did you hear about the new shop in Hogsmeade?"

"There's a new shop in Hogsmeade?" Tony sat forward, her face grinning broadly.

The door flung open. Lily stood there, panting, her hair flopping in front of her face.

"Can I stay in here with you guys?" She glanced down the corridor quickly before stepping inside and closing the door, quickly drawing the shades closed.

"Evidently," Anna said, scooting closer to Greg to make room on the seat.

"Thanks." Lily shook her black hair. "Aeolus hasn't left me alone. That and the entire team is betting on how quick he can get to me." She shuddered. "The kid's disgusting."

"Well, at least you have decent taste," Greg said.

"Aeolus is an ass."

"And also the best seeker since your dad," Rose said.

"No," Lily insisted, shaking her head. "He sucks."

"Where's your stuff?" Anna asked.

"With Aeolus." She shuddered again. "I'm not going back to find it. I don't care how much I get yelled at later."

"Or hit on?" Tony teased.

Lily shot her a death glare.

"You want to go for a walk?" Greg glanced at Rose.

"Yeah." Rose stood up, leading the way out.

Greg started to weave through the train, the rumble of the engine and the hum of talking filling both of them with the anticipation of the coming year. His hand wrapped gently around hers. She returned the gesture, their fingers weaving together.

"So…you don't mind being my girlfriend?" They pressed themselves against the wall as three third years and a second year ran by with their wands at the ready. She glanced at him, his eyes bearing down on her.

"Not if you don't." They started moving again, passing by a gaggle of fifth year girls giggling.

"Of course I don't. I just…I feel like you could do better…"

"What are you talking about?" They passed onto another part of the train, a muffled silence filling the cart. The muffled voices of the Slytherin prefects managed to make the way out of their compartment.

"I'm so…out of your league," he said, his voice low.

"No you aren't." Her voice was a little louder. He shushed her. "If anything, you could do better than me."

"No I couldn't."

"Really? I doubt that." They slipped into the next section of train, the raucous sounds of students going to Hogwarts again radiating through the walls.

"Where else am I going to get anyone as smart as you?"

A compartment roared, the end of the first game of exploding snap.

"You're a Ravenclaw." Rose flattened herself against the wall as four first years - probably muggle born - ran after a soccer ball.

"So? All the Ravencalws are far too book-oriented for my own taste." He let go of her hand, slipping his arm around her waist and into her pocket instead, drawing her close to his body.

"What're you doing?" she asked, hitching her thumb in his belt.

"We're in cramped space," he said, struggling to squeeze through a gaggle of Ravenclaws. They all paused at stared at the two of them, getting out of their way. As soon as they passed, they burst out in chatter.

"Are you sure this was a good idea?" Rose asked, pulling away from him and leaning against the wall.

"What?"

"This. You. Me. All of it. Are you sure it was a good idea?"

"I…I don't think I understand."

"I don't know if this was the right decision. Maybe we should have just continued on as friends…"

"Why would you say that? Are you breaking up…?"

Rose shut him up with a finger pressed against her lips and her eyebrows screwed together. He listened too.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered.

"Hear what?"

Someone sobbed.

"That," she said and turned to the compartment right by them. She slid open the door. A first year huddled in the corner, tears streaking his face and his knees drawn up to his chest. He looked up at her, shocked.

"Do you mind if I come in?" Rose asked. "Everywhere else is full."

"No. You can come in."

"What about me? Can I come, too?" Greg asked, scratching the back of his head.

The boy nodded.

"I'm Rose and this is Greg," she said, sitting across from the kid.

"I'm… I'm Jacob. But everyone calls me Jay."

"Do you want to be called Jay?"

"NO. Not really." He wiped his cheeks. "That's just what my mum calls me."

"Where you from?" Greg asked, pulling a deck of cards from his pocket.

"Isle of Man. Douglas." He shifted slightly. "They told me I couldn't call my dad."

Greg stared at the boy, slack jawed.

"I take it your dad isn't a wizard, then," Rose said, leaning forward in her seat.

The boy shook his head.

"It'll be alright, you know," she said. "It's weird, but it'll be alright. Have you ever written to your dad?"

"Written?"

"Like…a letter?"

"No. Why would I do that?"

"Well, you get write letters all the time, now."

"That sounds boring. I hate letters." The kid crossed his arms.

"It's only boring until you're sitting through history and all you can think about is how you wish Binns would stop droning. Then, it's the relief of a lifetime." Rose sat back and crossed her arms.

"I don't like writing." Jacob imitated her pose.

"Then you can learn a charm to capture your voice," Rose said.

His eyes widened.

"A…a charm?" his voice was low, barely a whisper.

"Yep. A charm. There're charms for anything. Well…_almost_ anything."

"I don't know…" He shifted uncomfortably. "What if they don't work?"

"You'll just have to practice."

"What if I'm not magical? What if this is all a big mistake and what if I'm supposed to be going to secondary school?"

Rose leaned forward again, her sweatshirt riding up in the back. Greg forced himself to look away from the sliver of flesh.

"You want to know what I think?" she whispered, a glint in her eye.

"What?" He sounded wary.

"I don't think this is a mistake."

"Really? How can you…"

"You'll see when you get to Hogwarts. You'll feel like…you're home."

"Home? I already have a home." He was back to being skeptical.

"At school, did you ever feel like you belonged? Like you were like everyone else?"

His eyes widened again, almost shocked.

"You were always different, right?" Her voice was low, excited.

He nodded.

"At Hogwarts, everyone is different. Everyone…is like you." She poked his nose. He scrunched his face.

"I'm not _four_." He crossed his arms.

"We'll see about that."

"What if no one likes me?"

"I like you." The kid blushed. "Besides, you'll get along with your house - they'll be even more like you than anyone else. You'll probably be in Gryffindor. That's my house."

"I think I want to be."

"Gryffindor's a good house. We're all stubborn, though."

"Well I'm stubborn!"

"Then I'm sure you'll do fine."

The compartment door slid open. A Hufflepuff prefect stood in the doorway.

"We're about to arrive. You'll want to consider getting changed," he said, his hair mussed up.

"Well, we've got to go," Rose said, standing up. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

"You think?" He was meek again.

"I know." She looked to Greg, her cheeks flushed. "You coming?"

"Yep." he stood up, ushering her out of the room.

Rose sighed and rolled her shoulders.

"Hey, Rose?" Greg stopped walking. She paused and looked at him.

"Yeah?"

"I…I don't think we're making a mistake."

He took a step towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his mouth softly pressing against hers. "I don't want you to think this is a mistake." He brushed the side of her cheek with the back of his hand. "Ok?"

"Ok." She struggled to swallow. "But we…we should go change."

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Change."


	65. Chapter 65

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

3

"Why did you kick Greg out?" Rose muttered, shimmying into her shirt.

"Why do you think?" Lily asked, pinning back her hair.

"God damn it, Rose," Anna said, turning to her roommate. "Here, don't move." she loosened her tie, untucked her shirt, and fussed with the collar. "So much better." Rose batted Lily away as she started messing with her hair.

"Lay off," she muttered, stepping into her shoes.

"Why're you so dressed up?" Libby said, flicking her skirt up.

"Could it have anything to do with that kiss you and Greg had?" Diane asked, staring at herself in her handheld mirror.

"How did you…?"

"I don't know if you realize this, Rose, but you are everyone's favorite person to talk about." Diane puckered her lips.

"Besides," Tony said. "You did it in front of Hufflepuffs."

Rose groaned and shouldered her knapsack, mentally preparing for the gossip.

3

By the time dinner was over, Jacob was sorted into Gryffindor, and everyone was moved in, all Rose wanted to do was go to bed. Instead, she found herself sitting in the common room with Anna, Diane, Libby, and Tony, half asleep.

The portrait door flung opened. Rose squinted to make out Molly stumbling through the hole, clinging to Lorcan - or maybe it was Lysander? - to keep herself upright.

"Come on, Molly," he muttered. "You're almost there."

"What have you been doing?" Rose asked.

"Ravenclaws," Molly muttered, leaning heavily against Lorcan. "They know how t'party."

"Speaking of Ravenclaws," Lysander said. "One of them is waiting outside for you, Rose."

"Who?" Tentatively, Rose stood up.

"Who do you think? Greg."

"Oh." She jumped up, causing Libby and Anna to snigger.

"Shhhhh," Molly said, collapsing on the couch. "It's quiet time, right, Lorc?"

"Right." He sat down next to her and she immediately fell asleep against him.

Rose slipped out of the dormitory, the portrait of the fat lady shutting behind her.

"Hey," Greg said, ruffling his hair, his Ravenclaw robes spread tightly over his broad shoulders.

"Hey," Rose said, suddenly self-conscious about the loose pajama pants and oversized tee-shirt she was wearing.

"Did you settle in alright?" he asked, nervously looking around the barren corridors.

"Yeah. What about you?"

"I have everything."

"So…what're you doing here?"

"Come on." He grabbed her hand and led her off into a secret passage behind a statue of an ancient witch. "I just wanted to make sure you're game."

"What do you mean?" She shivered slightly in the chill passage. He took his robe off and draped it over her shoulders. She was relieved to see he was in pajamas, too - a loose pair of flannel pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

"Earlier. About this being a mistake." He crossed his arms and stared at her, his eyes wide.

Rose didn't really know what to say.

"I don't want to force you into anything. I just want to know - I need to know, really - if this is what you want to do or if you have something else…"

"Greg…"

"What you did with Jacob…Merlin, Rose." He shook his head, never taking his eyes from her. "You're so fucking hot. And so fucking beautiful. And so fucking perfect."

"I'm not perfect, Greg."

"Just let me know, Rose, if you ever think we're moving too fast or if you need space or anything. Ok?" He put his heavy hands on her shoulders.

She nodded, grinning slightly. "Ok."

"Thank you." He kissed her on the cheek. "I should get to bed. I'm supposed to meeting tomorrow morning with Madame Hooch."

"Good night." Rose handed back his robe.

He walked her back to the portrait before kissing her again, this time on the mouth.

"I don't think we're making a mistake," Rose whispered softly, her fingers resting in his soft hair.

"Good. Neither do I."

3

Rose glanced at the note from Diane: _So what happened last night?_

She glanced at Diane, the girl looking at her eagerly for a response, and tucked the note in her History of Magic book. Diane groaned and tore another piece of parchment from her notebook. She jotted something else down.

_Why are you so secretive? We all love Greg. He's hilarious._

Rose glanced again at Diane and again slipped the note in her book.

"Rose," she whispered. "Come on. Give me something, already."

"No," Rose replied, turning towards Diane.

"Rose, seriously? You're not going to tell us?" Andy asked from her other side.

"You're dismissed," Binns said. The entire room scampered towards the exit.

"Have you kissed?" Andy asked, sliding her books into her knapsack.

"What do you think?" Rose flung her messenger bag over her shoulder.

"You have," Diane said. "All the Hufflepuffs insist on it. And Whalan. But you can never really trust him."

"She has?" Andy hurried after the two of them as they slid past a Slytherin snoozing in the back row of desks. "Why haven't I been told?"

"Because it's none of your business." Rose started down the corridor in the direction of the library.

"Rose…" The two of them stopped as she continued down the staircase.

"Merlin, they can be pests," Molly said, coming up behind Rose.

"Where did you come from?"

"Around."

"Where did they go?"

"I just gave them a bit of a charm. They think you're going to meet them later in the common room. It'd be best not to be late. Anyway, I was wondering what you and your boy were doing tonight."

"Why?" They entered the first floor and Rose turned right down the hallway to the library.

"Well, you see…" Molly draped her arm across Rose's shoulders. "The Ravenclaws are doing this…thing in the RoR."

"No, Molly."

"No what?"

"No, I'm not going to the RoR."

"Then can Greg get me in?"

"No, Molly."

"You're no fun. Can I have one of your hairs?"

"Why?"

"Oh, nothing much. We've just got some stuff brewing in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom…"

"Merlin, Molly!"

Rose stopped outside the entrance to the library.

"Come on." Molly crossed her arms. "You'd do it for Al."

"Al wouldn't want to."

"Please, Rose!" She thudded to her knees, wrapping her arms around Rose's legs.

"No!"

"What's going on?" Greg stared down at Molly.

"Nothing," Molly said, getting up off the ground.

"Do you want to join us in studying?"

"No, that's ok." Molly pulled her shirt down, the tight fabric emphasizing her burgeoning breasts. "I've already done all my homework for the week." She turned around and skipped down the hallway, whistling.

"What's up with her?" Greg asked, taking Rose's bag from her.

"She just wanted you to get her into a party tonight."

"Oh, the one in the RoR?"

"Uh…yeah."

"Would you be interested in going to that?"

"What? Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I mean, if you don't want to, that's fine. It's supposed to be on the bigger parties this semester."

"Wow…" Rose ran a hand through her hair. "A party?"

"I mean, if you don't want to go…"

"No, that's not it. I just…I'll go, that's fine. I've just never been to one."

"It's a lot different than the Gryffindor drunk-fests I hear so much about." He opened the door for her. "I mean, plenty of people get smashed, but there's a lot more to do, too."

"Sounds good."


End file.
